


I Want You More Than I Want Superpowers

by DiamantNoir



Series: Powers That Be [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Best Friends, Breaking and Entering, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Kissing, Little bits of Fluff, M/M, Minor Violence, Slice of Life, Superpowers, hints of markhyuck, luwoo in the background, mention of blood but not graphically, teen boys being teen boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 55,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamantNoir/pseuds/DiamantNoir
Summary: If there's one rule of friendship that should never be broken it's: don't tell lies.Of course, keeping his feelings from Jeno wasn't really a lie. It was just the omission of the truth. To keep things as normal as possible.But nothing like that compares to the obvious lies Jeno tells him, standing in the hallway of their high school, with bruises riddled about his face and body.Jaemin knows something is up with his best friend and he's going to do everything in his power to figure out what that is.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: Powers That Be [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730035
Comments: 43
Kudos: 309





	I Want You More Than I Want Superpowers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> So, this isn't my first fanfic, but it is the first one I've posted on this site. Please be nice to me!  
> I wrote this for Camp Nanowrimo this past April. It hasn't been read by a beta and there's probably a few mistakes here and there. Hopefully, I managed to get a good chunk of them.  
> The idea was to write a series of stories like this that all interconnect. I'm not sure if I'll ever complete them all, but it's a goal I have anyway. I'm already working on a Luwoo fic. So....I guess we'll see what happens!
> 
> This does have violence and blood in it. It's not super graphic, but I put it in the tags anyway, just in case. If there's anything you think I should add in the tags please let me know! 
> 
> I think that's it...so....here we go. Hope you enjoy!

Jaemin knows Mark is regretting his choice to come with them as soon as they show up on school grounds. His nervous eyes flick to Renjun, looking for some kind of explanation since he certainly won’t be getting on from his best friend. Especially since Donghyuck is already using a tree to scale the stone wall that surrounds the grounds. Jaemin decides to let Mark sweat. It’s not going to hurt him.

No one else is paying much attention to him. Renjun is scrolling through his phone, proving for the millionth time that he has literally no interest in what shenanigans they get up to as long as he can be there. Chenle and Jisung are with Donghyuck by a large oak tree. It’s the only one closest to the wall where the branches have stretched into the school grounds. Makes it an easy ladder, Jaemin thinks.

“You can’t be serious.” Mark runs both his hands through his blond locks, trying to calm himself and keep his tone barely above a whisper, as if he’s worried someone will hear them. No one will. The security has a certain rotation and Donghyuck’s made sure to check their movement. Right now, they’re far enough away to not notice a group of seven boys grouped on the east side. “Hyuck—Donghyuck, get down!”

Donghyuck’s made it to the very top, straddling the wall. “Oh, shut up and climb, will you?”

“This is illegal,” Mark squeaks. He probably didn’t mean for his voice to lift that much, of course. Mark likes to pretend he’s a lot cooler than he is. They all know that he’s a nerd. A cute, awkward nerd, but a nerd nonetheless. The only time he’s cool is when he’s not trying and that rarely happens.

“Do I look like I care?” Donghyuck asks, golden skin glowing in the lamp light. His red hair ruffles in the wind when he casts his friend a wide, Cheshire cat smile, and leans back. Jaemin can hear Mark’s breath catch as Donghyuck disappears from view. There’s a soft thud and Donghyuck’s voice carries over the stone barricade. “Oh, look, I’m not arrested.”

Mark frowns and stalks over to the wall, hitting his hand against it. “You will be if you don’t get back here.”

“Stop being a boring old man and live a little,” comes the response.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. Even after all these years, they’re still bickering. It’s a wonder they’ve lasted as friends for so long. Although, Jaemin wonders if Mark’s not-so-secret crush on the younger boy might have something to do with the longevity.

An elbow nudges his arm and Jaemin turns to find Jeno, but the boy isn’t looking at him. Instead, he’s watching as Mark starts to climb the tree, still arguing with Donghyuck on the way. Then, when Jeno smiles at him, Jaemin’s attention immediately goes into tunnel focus because Jeno’s eyes turn into those moon crescents he finds just too endearing to ignore. It causes Jaemin’s heart to do a silly little jump, which he doesn’t appreciate in the least.

“You climbing?” Jeno asks.

Jaemin shrugs. “I’ll go after you all. Help me get Renjun to the first branch?”

Jeno does just that. After sliding his phone into his pocket, Renjun uses Jaemin and Jeno’s hands to lift him high enough to get a hold of the first branch. Renjun’s small, but he’s strong. He climbs slowly, surely, and confidently. Mark is still sitting on the wall when Renjun makes it to the top. He eyes mark for a moment, smiles, and jumps. Jaemin can hear a soft impact and Donghyuck’s grunt and he knows Donghyuck caught him.

“Fuck, you’re lucky you’re as light as a feather,” he hears Donghyuck saying.

“Language!” Mark berates, though only his tone is in the fight. His eyes are still flitting around nervously, his hands not really sure where to grab.

“Come down here and yell at me then,” says Donghyuck. “You’re drawing attention.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Yours. Now, would you get your ass down here? I said I would catch you. I caught Renjun.”

Mark scoffs. “I’m heavier than Renjun.”

“Are you calling me weak?”

Jeno is halfway up the tree, pulling Chenle up with him, when he snaps, “Would you two quit your love spat? Mark, just jump, for god’s sake.”

“He’s going to drop me,” whines Mark.

Donghyuck’s yell swells over the stone, “I’m definitely going to, now that you called me weak!”

“Children. They’re absolute children,” Jaemin mutters to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He turns to Jisung, the youngest and last to climb. He’s tall and lanky and it’s not too difficult for him to make his way up the tree, but that doesn’t mean he has absolute control over his limbs just yet. He’s made it to Jeno. Only, he tries to straighten up at the wrong moment and his head slams against a branch. Jaemin inhales sharply and throws out his hand. He can feel the pull in the tips of his fingers, like the skin stretching uncomfortably, and a lower branch flicks upward to rest against Jisung’s back to keep him from falling.

Jeno’s got a hold of Jisung’s arm when he shoots Jaemin a relieved smile. “Nice save.”

Sighing, he lets himself smile back despite his heart pounding. He wants to say it’s only from Jisung’s brush with broken bones and possible certain death and that it has absolutely nothing to do with the way Jeno’s watching him, but he can’t. Not completely.

There’s one good thing about Mark still being at the top, and that’s the fact that he could help lower Chenle and Jisung down to the ground. He glances at Jeno, who raises a brow, and Mark rolls his eyes up to the sky in a silent prayer.

“Catch me,” he says to Donghyuck.

“Oh, now you want me to—”

“I swear, Donghyuck!”

And with that Mark disappears, pushing himself from the top of the wall. There’s a “oof” from the other side and a bit of laughter that’s most definitely Chenle. When Jeno gives Jaemin a thumbs up, he knows Donghyuck and Mark are both still alive from the fall.

Jeno perches himself on the wall and waits as Jaemin reaches for the first branch. It didn’t matter how many times he laid his skin against anything nature related. It still sends little trills through his body like it’s the first time. The tree’s practically humming as he began his ascent.

“Stop staring,” he grunts as he makes it halfway up.

Chin in his hands, Jeno simply smiles. That sends a trill through him that’s very different from the tree. This one attacks his heart with no mercy. He really needs to get things under control. This is getting ridiculous. He should be used to Jeno. Utterly bored of him, by now. They’ve been friends since they were in diapers. He shouldn’t be feeling _fonder_ each second.

Jaemin huffs, finally making it to the branch closest to the top of the wall. He takes a moment to breathe, regretting his decision to stop taking gym after freshman year. He’s fit, but he’s not _climbing_ fit. Hell, he could barely make it up that devil rope to ring the bell. Donghyuck couldn’t stop teasing him about it all week.

“We all aren’t bloody monkeys,” Jaemin had snapped.

Donghyuck simply snickered and replied, “Well, it’s very clear you definitely aren’t, Nana.”

There’s a reason Jaemin likes keeping Donghyuck around. It just constantly escapes him when the redhead is being fabulously obnoxious. Which is daily, and usually every other minute.

“You could make this so much easier on yourself,” Jeno says, leaning back on his hands. He casts a glance to the other side of the wall. “We could have ridden the arbor express.”

“Too tiring,” he pants.

Jeno holds out his hand and Jaemin takes it without a second thought. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s odd to be thinking of how nicely their hands slot together while they’re breaking and entering. Still, it’s a thought that flutters in his mind for several moments as he makes his way to the wall.

His foot slips and his heart jumps to his throat, but Jeno’s got a strong hold on him and manages to pull him up onto the top. He tries to catch his breath.

“Ow,” Jeno mutters.

Jaemin is quick to retract himself. His hands, which had found Jeno’s arms to steady himself, snap into the air in a surrender stance before he notices that Jeno’s rubbing at his bicep.

“Oh, god.” He places his hands on Jeno’s arm as gingerly as possible, eying the spot Jeno’s nursing as if he can see the damage through his sweater. He can’t. That’s not his power. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Jeno waves his hand. “No, it’s fine. It wasn’t you. Just have a bruise there from before.”

“From what?”

“Ran into a door,” he says with a sheepish smile, with an additional rub to the nape of his neck that makes him even more endearing that he already is—and _damn it_ , that’s just not fair.

“Yo! Are you guys ever coming down or are you just going to stay there and make googly eyes at each other? Because we’ll leave you if that’s the case,” Donghyuck yells from below.

Jaemin takes a peek. Sure enough, Donghyuck is glaring up at them, hands on his hips, red hair a fluffy mess. Mark’s behind him, his gaze going from Jaemin and Jeno to Donghyuck and back again as if he can’t choose which is better to watch. Honestly, Jaemin is prone to say that Mark tries his best to seem unbiased about things, but he’ll always gravitate towards Donghyuck. Just like his gaze eventually decides a second later.

Renjun has his phone out again, and Chenle is busy whispering in Jisung’s ear while the youngest is keeping an eye out for security guards. They really only have a small window of time before they could possibly get caught, so Jaemin turns to Jeno and asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” There’s that smile again.

Jeno grips the top of the wall and drops the several feet. Mark is there to steady his fall. It’s not graceful, but it’s much better than Jaemin could ever do. So, he eyes the grass down below, closes his eyes, and jumps.

His lands in someone’s arms, another set grabbing at his legs when he starts to tilt dangerously. He opens his eyes to find Jeno and Mark there. As Mark steps back, having been the person to steady them, and Jeno sets Jaemin on his feet.

“Now, that’s what I call a trust-fall,” Jeno says as he looks up the length of the drop with a chuckle. “Knew I would catch you?”

“Don’t I always?”

A retching sound comes from behind them. Donghyuck straightens, eyebrows raised, and asks, “Flora and Fauna have finally decided to join us. Thank God. You done flirting?”

Jaemin marches past him, making sure to slam his shoulder into the redhead’s as hard as he can. It’s not like it’ll do much damage. Jaemin may be strong, but Donghyuck is a little broader, a little more filled out, which lessens the force.

“We weren’t flirting,” he grumbles on his way toward their destination. “Can we move now?”

“We were waiting for you two to get your lives in order,” shot back Donghyuck, but he’s already moved on from the teasing and is rushing onward with Jisung and Chenle following close behind.

Sometimes, Jaemin wonders how they got the younger ones involved. Donghyuck’s cousin, Jungwoo, is Jisung’s babysitter with the super convenience of living right across the street. This, of course, helped the two to meet. Not that Donghyuck had tried to make friends with Jisung. It just sort of happened. One moment they were the five of them—Mark, Donghyuck, Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno—and the next Jisung and his best friend, Chenle, were there. There were no other explanations. They just gained two more members of the group.

That, however, was fine up until late last year when Donghyuck started getting fun ideas to climb roofs and break onto school grounds and the younger ones just seemed to join in. Jaemin knows it wouldn’t be the same without the two of them there, but at the heart of it, he knows it probably isn’t their best decision. Chenle had just turned fifteen nearly five months ago and Jisung just turned fourteen, only a freshman in high school. They’re actual babies and Jaemin takes a lot of time to care for them. Right now, he’s thinking he’s not doing his job right, especially now that Donghyuck is working diligently on the lock of the door.

“Hurry up,” Chenle whispers excitedly.

Donghyuck glares up at him. “Do you want to do it?”

Chenle—sweet, little Chenle with his pastel green hair that Donghyuck had dyed simply because he was bored one Saturday and Chenle didn’t know how to say no—takes a step behind Jisung and shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“Thought so.”

Jeno steps up beside Jaemin, to his left, just like always. “He’s getting better at that.”

“Unnervingly so,” Jaemin agrees.

From his other side, Mark mutters, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Donghyuck grunts and gets back on his feet. He gives his lock pick and the door another shake. It pops open with ease. Glancing over his shoulder, he says, “Oh, stop complaining. You’re here now.”

“You said we were going to do something fun,” Mark accuses with a point of his finger. “Fun entails the movies or bowling.”

“I find it kind of thrilling,” Jeno puts in and Mark shoots him a glare. “Hey, man, at this point, you should know what ‘fun’ means in Donghyuck’s vocabulary. It’s synonymous with ‘illegal’.”

“Ooh, big word for such a small brain,” Donghyuck teases. He allows Jisung and Chenle to slip in first.

Jeno frowns. “Dude, I’m literally defending your idea.”

“In we go,” is all Donghyuck says. “Come on, you big baby. Get inside before we really are caught.”

The smell of chlorine is the first thing that hits Jaemin upon entry. Even though the lights are all off, the glass walls reflect the water from the pool causing just enough light for them to find their way around the place. It’s also warm. Jaemin doesn’t remember it ever being this warm when he had been forced to swim for class, but then again, he had been only in swim trunks at the time. Now, he’s dressed in an oversized sweater and skinny jeans, which are now starting to stick to him uncomfortably.

Renjun finds a particular bench near the door and curls up. When Jaemin raises a brow, Renjun wiggles his phone. He’ll keep himself busy then. It’s in that moment, as he’s turning back, that he finds Jeno is no longer at his side. He’s along the pool, laughing at some joke Chenle must have made. Jaemin eyes the glass windows and hopes Chenle will keep his voice down just in case. The last thing they need is the place shattering around them.

Instead of standing around by himself at the edge of the pool, he moves to take a spot next to Mark on the bench. His hands are fiddling in his lap while he keeps a close eye on Donghyuk, who’s migrated to the others and has Chenle in a headlock. The redhead tosses his head back and laughs.

“I can’t believe you let him do this,” Mark says. It’s not harsh, nor really that accusatory. It’s resigned than anything.

Jaemin coughs a laugh. “Not like I had a say. Donghyuck’s gonna do what Donghyuck’s gonna do. And it’s not like you stopped him either. Not like you could.”

Mark glances at him and Jaemin gives him a knowing smile. He lets Mark get away with his pink cheeks. There’s no need to point them right now.

“You even decided on a gap year,” he continues, leaning back on the bench, “just to go to university with him.”

Mark shakes his head. “That’s—Okay, that’s not why I’m going to take the gap year. I’m going to use it to make money.” Then he sighs. “Hyuck isn’t even sure he wants to go to university. Or college even.”

At that, Jaemin shoots straight up. “Excuse me? Donghyuck isn’t sure he wants to do what?”

Donghyuck, hearing his name, turns. “What about me?”

“What’s this about not going to continue with school?” Jaemin asks, tone straight and serious.

Eyes wide, Donghyuck looks at Mark and then back to Jaemin. “Um.”

“Oh, you’re in trouble now,” Jeno laughs. He receives a kick in the shin from Donghyuck. “Oh, _shit_. Really?”

Mark scratches his head. “Sorry, I thought you told him.”

“I’ll deal with you later,” Donghyuck threatens. “Look, it’s just a thought, Nana. It’s not like it’s definitely happening. I just don’t think it’s a need in my life.”

“Not a need? Not a need!” Jaemin stands up and begins to walk toward Donghyuck, who—for once in his measly life—looks worried and maybe even a little intimidated. Enough so that he steps around Jeno as if Jeno would be a good human shield. He should know better.

Jeno, being the best friend he is, snatches Donghyuck’s arm and spins him back in front.

“I hate you,” Donghyuck hisses at him. Jeno simply shrugs.

“You are going to get a better education, Donghyuck Lee, if it’s the last thing I do!” Jaemin shouts as he launches for his friend.

Donghyuck is quick, though. He manages to escape Jaemin’s reach and race toward Mark to pull him up. Unlike Jeno, Mark’s no help to Jaemin. He’s now got Donghyuck clinging to his back and Jaemin trying to reach around him. It’s an awkward position, but Jaemin doesn’t care because he just wants to get his hands on the little brat.

“Would you two quit it?” Mark says as he tries to shove Donghyuck away with one hand and Jaemin with the other. “Jaemin, don’t—”

It’s too late though. Jaemin rams into Mark, jolting him to the side. Donghyuck, unfortunately, has let go of the older boy, and Mark teeters dangerously on the edge of the pool before completely keeling over. The water splashes, raining down on Jaemin’s pants and shoes. He can’t help but watch with his mouth slightly agape.

There’s a beat of silence.

Mark bursts through the surface, coughing up water with his blond hair sticking to his forehead in all the strange directions. Breaking the stunned silence, Donghyuck doubles over in laughter. His voice echoes around the pool and soon enough Jeno’s joined him. Then Jisung and Chenle—though Jisung has stuck his hand over Chenle’s mouth to muffle the sound just in case. Even Renjun’s puts down his phone, biting his lip and his shoulders shaking. Jaemin tries not to laugh. He really does because he honestly didn’t mean to do it, but the laughter has escaped before he can even stop it. He’s laughing until his lungs ache and his mouth hurts from smiling and his eyes are watering.

Poor Mark, still doesn’t find it funny. He’s wades his way to the edge. “You are so dead!”

“Oh, this is what I was talking about!” Donghyuck shouts, completely ignoring the threat. Well, that’s fair since Mark is probably the least non-threatening of all of them. Even Chenle is scarier. Without another thought, Donghyuck races to the edge of the pool and leaps. His cannonball causes the water to slosh over the side and Jaemin steps back to keep his shoes from getting even wetter.

When Donghyuck resurfaces, he’s all smiles and laughter. Mark is after him in seconds, catching him and shoving him down. Not harshly, though. Mark doesn’t have that in him. So, Donghyuck is up only after a few seconds to splash Mark in the face.

Jisung is next, pulling Chenle by the arm. They tumble into the pool ungracefully, but it doesn’t matter because they’re too happy to care. Jeno is at Jaemin’s side instantly, eyes still fully arched into perfect crescents and his laughter sending jolts of joy through Jaemin’s ears.

“Hey,” Jeno says, nudging Jaemin in the side to gain his attention.

He doesn’t like to be cheesy, but he can’t help but notice that Jeno is shining against the water’s reflected light. It makes him glow and it’s ethereal. It’s breathtaking. And, _wow_ , when did he get so whipped?

“Want to take a dive?”

The words go right over Jaemin, honestly. He’s not really paying that close attention because all he can really focus on is the way Jeno’s black hair swoops over his forehead or how his lips look so good stretched out in a smile. And when Jeno tilts his head, Jaemin is searching for words because he’s sure Jeno just asked him something about diving.

“What?”

Jeno doesn’t wait for a proper response. His arms are suddenly wrapped around Jaemin’s waist and they’re falling. The cool water slaps against him. He surfaces, coughing water out of his airway and rubbing droplets out of his eyes.

“Damn it, Jeno!” he yells, shoving at Jeno’s shoulders. Jeno’s laughing again and Jaemin can’t be made a him when he’s like this. He just ends up erupting into giggles and then full on laughter.

Renjun’s moved closer, taking the bench Mark had earlier. Donghyuck sees him and swims to the edge of the pool. With little to no effort, he lifts himself out and starts slowly toward Renjun.

“Hey, want to go for a swim, Vox?” Donghyuck asks innocently.

Eying him, he says, “Don’t come near me, Donghyuck Lee.”

“Oh, come on,” he sings, “it’ll be fun.”

“No.” Renjun’s up in seconds, phone on the bench. “Hyuck, no—stop!”

Donghyuck is takes after Renjun, who’s racing toward the door. They make it halfway before Donghyuck has Renjun’s arms stamped to his sides with his own arms wound around him. They’re wrestling, waddling to the edge of the pool. They’re almost there when someone shouts. And it’s not any of their voices.

“Hey, who’s in there?”

They all freeze. Jaemin feels his heart claw up to his throat. Oh god, the security guards.

Mark’s the first one to react. “Run!”

They’re rushing to get out of the pool. Jeno’s quicker and he ends up pulling Jaemin out while Mark grabs Chenle and Jisung. Donghyuck races to the door and looks out.

“They’re coming this way,” he announces. “Other door, now!”

They take off, running around the large pool. They’re barely around the other side as the guards step into the room, flashlights out. They shout at them to stop, but they aren’t going to. There’s no way Jaemin is getting caught because of Donghyuck’s stupid idea.

“Gummy bear!” yells Mark.

Chenle takes a deep breath in and whistles. The air ripples and the glass door shatters. Jisung is through it first. Then Chenle, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck. Mark shoves Jaemin through last before following. His heart has never beat this fast and he’s sure his body is going to hate him in the morning for all the crap he’s put it through in such a small amount of time. His wet shoes slam against the grass.

“Flora, tree!”

Jaemin knows what Mark is asking and he’s got his hand out before Mark can even finish his demand. His skin tightens in his fingers and the tree next to the stone wall starts twisting unnaturally. He hates doing this, he hates messing with a fully grown plant, but he’s got no choice. It’s either bend the tree or get suspended. And, honestly, it’s a no brainer for Jaemin.

The branches arch from the ground to the top of the wall like a bridge. If they weren’t about to get caught, he probably would be pretty impressed with how fast he managed that. Donghyuck is up first. He doesn’t even stop to grab hold of anything. He simply runs up it with perfect balance and leaps over the wall. Jaemin will ask him later how he can fall so high without breaking an ankle or his whole freaking leg.

Jisung and Chenle go next. Renjun is slower, but he succeeds. Jeno glances back at Jaemin, but he gestures him onward. With one last look, Jeno races up the branches and drops down the other side.

“Go,” Mark says.

Jaemin shakes his head. He can see the security guards gaining on them, their flashlight bobbing in the darkness. “I need to be here to fix the tree. Hurry.”

Mark groans, but does what he’s told. Once he’s over, Jaemin starts after them. As he goes, he drags his hand behind him, his fingers brushing the bark. He can feel the tree branches receding from the ground, curling up to their natural state. When he’s at the top, he shouts, “Cradle,” and jumps.

Jeno’s the one that catches him, one arm around his back and one under his legs. Once Jaemin’s on his feet, they take off down the street. It isn’t until they’re halfway there that Donghyuck’s stumbles to a stop, in the middle of the road, in peals of laughter.

It shouldn’t be funny. None of it should be funny. But the adrenaline is crazy and Jaemin’s heart won’t stop pounding and everything is blurry and, god, he can’t stop laughing either. None of them can. So, the seven of them end up crashed in the middle of the road, laughter echoing out into the night, at nearly quarter to midnight, and Jaemin wouldn’t have it any other way.

*

Mark’s graduating this year. Not that it matters all that much. He’s still planning on sticking around for another year, but that does mean that the time inside the school hallways is somewhat precious. Especially the basketball games.

While he’s not going to university right way, he’s still hoping to be scouted for varsity to get a scholarship. This usually means that his after-school time and his lunches are taken up by practices. This also usually means that Donghyuck resorts to complaining about being bored all the freaking time and gluing himself to his other various friends. It’s usually Jeno, though.

Jaemin doesn’t mind particularly. Donghyuck and him are fairly close as well. However, there are times that he wishes that perhaps he could have a bit more Jeno-time than he seems to get. Honestly, he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He spends more than enough time with Jeno, but these days, it sure doesn’t feel like it.

They’re at lunch when Donghyuck shoves his way between Jaemin and Jeno with a sigh and nothing but an apple.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Renjun asks from across the table.

Donghyuck takes an enormous bite and says. “Yeff.”

“Chew and swallow,” Jaemin tells him, wrinkling his nose. “Honestly, what are you? Three?”

Gulping down the bite, Donghyuck says, “Yep.”

“Shove over,” Jeno says. “You’re nearly sitting on my lap.”

Jaemin is pushed a bit when Donghyuck moves away. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot your lap was reserved for Jaemin. My apologies.”

At those words, Jaemin chokes on his noodles. Jisung, sweet sweet Jisung, reaches from the other side of their table to pat him on the back.

“You okay there, Nana?” Donghyuck asks. Jaemin shoots him a glare, but all he gets in return is raised eyebrows while the redhead takes another bite of his apple as if he said nothing.

“Nana?” Jeno calls from around their friend, concern drawing on his face.

Jaemin straightens and clears his throat. It’s somewhat burning. “I’m fine. Just breathed in wrong.”

“Sure, you did,” Donghyuck says with a nod. Jaemin steps on his foot. “Ow! Fuck!”

“You okay?” Chenle asks.

Donghyuck groans. “Peachy keen.” He glances sideways at Jaemin. “Asshat.”

“Devil,” he spats.

The thing is, they’re close, but goodness does Donghyuck make it difficult. Loveable, but also asking to be strangled.

“So,” Donghyuck drawls as he turns to Jeno, “my house after school?”

Jaemin tries not to sigh. Again, it’s not like he dislikes hanging out with his friends. He really does love them in his own sort of way, but there were times he’d like to take a break. With Jeno, preferably. Where was Mark when he needed him?

He’s waiting for Jeno to say yes, to tell Donghyuck that Jaemin’s already coming like he normally does every day after school, to say that the others can join if they want to.

Except, it doesn’t come.

“Um, actually, raincheck?”

The whole table shifts. Jeno is never not available. Which, okay, is weird in and of itself, but that’s not the point. The point is, Jeno is cancelling plans with Jaemin and postponing them for everyone else. This is a rarity.

“I thought I was coming over?” Jaemin says, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jeno, strangely, won’t look up from his mashed potatoes. “Uh, yeah, I was going to talk to you about that. I have a thing I need to do after school.”

“A thing?” Donghyuck repeats, clearly unimpressed.

“You?” Renjun adds.

At that, Jeno looks up. “Yes, _me_. I do have other things happening in my life.”

No, he doesn’t. Jaemin would know. He likes to think he would know. Jeno tells him everything. He’s sure of it. At least, he thought he did.

“What kind of things?” Jisung inquires.

“Family…things,” Jeno says slowly. Then he turns back to his food. “I can’t say, okay? It’s a family thing, so I can’t hang out after school. Sorry.”

Donghyuck raises his chin, still studying Jeno’s figure, before lowering it in a slow nod. They all know Jeno’s hiding something. He’s not a good liar. He never has been. Why he thought he could get away with it now was beyond Jaemin.

Even still, Donghyuck’s already seemingly given up because he’s turning to Jaemin, asking, “You want to hang out?”

Jaemin is nodding without really realizing it, eyes still trained on Jeno. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Ice cream?”

“I’m in!” Chenle shouts from the other end of the table. Jisung agrees and Renjun as well, so the group of them decide to meet up after final bell.

At the end of lunch, Jaemin takes Jeno’s arm and the boy winces. “Sorry, I forgot,” he says quickly, taking his hand away.

Jeno shakes his head and gives him a smile. It’s slightly pained, though. Jaemin can tell. “It’s okay. No worries. What’s up?”

He shuffles on the spot, watching their friends head out of the cafeteria to their next class. At least, he hopes Donghyuck is heading to his next class. Otherwise, he’ll beat him.

“Is everything okay? You’re sure you’re fine?” Jaemin rushes out.

Jeno chuckles and his hand comes up to ruffle Jaemin’s hair, who swats him away. “I’m fine, Nana. Just a family thing. Promise.”

Jaemin isn’t sure that promise feels real, but he lets Jeno walk away anyway because why else would Jeno lie to him?

*

Flora. Fauna. Haechan. Hypnos. Vox. Gummy Bear.

Poor Jisung is left with Sung. For now, Jaemin thinks. Just until his powers arrive. If they ever arrive. Not that Jaemin would ever mention that to Jisung. The boy doesn’t need to know that others are thinking it, especially his best friends. Besides, he has time. The majority of the population doesn’t gain their abilities until their sixteenth birthday and Jisung’s was two years away.

Of course, there were freaks of nature who gained it before that time. Like, Mark, who was ten, Donghyuck, who was nine, or even Chenle, who quite literally got his only a month and a half ago and still at the ripe age of fifteen. Jisung had not been happy about that at all when he found out, though he tried to seem supportive with a tight smile regardless. The earliest Jaemin’s aware of is five years old, and it was one of Jungwoo’s friends, Taeyong.

The only difference is that Jisung came from a long line of people who were Negates and it’s worrisome to the boy. His grandmother has no abilities and neither does his mother. None of them say how that lowers his chances genetically. They all know he knows that fully well.

Still, Jaemin wishes he could say something supportive about it. He cares about Jisung a lot, like his own little brother, and it’s not comforting to know he feels powerless and useless. Not that he outright has said that, but Jaemin knows. They all do. It’s written on his face whenever they use their abilities in front of him.

Which is why, Jaemin is glad they keep things as mundane as possible amongst their group, like going to get ice cream after school, sans Mark and Jeno. It’s an odd feeling not having the two there, but they keep themselves busy and Renjun, despite being a naturally quiet and slightly passive person, was a force to be reckoned when he’s left alone with three crazy teenagers. Okay, so four, but Jaemin likes to think he’s not that bad, especially when the two youngest are around. He spends more time making sure they’re okay than causing a riot. Put him just with Donghyuck though and he might as well be the fan to Donghyuck’s wildfire.

Next to him, Donghyuck drops his ice cream cup on the table and groans, hand pressed to his forehead. “Urgh, brain freeze.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jaemin comments. “Tongue to the roof of your mouth.”

Donghyuck, turning toward him, opens his mouth and presses the tip of his tongue to the top of his mouth, which is still full of his rocky road. Jaemin wrinkles his nose in disgust and shoves him away.

Renjun sighs. “Do you have to be so gross?”

Instead of answering, Donghyuck simply winks. Sometimes Jaemin wonders how they put up with him. _Why_ they put up with him, he should say.

Chenle purses his lips, eyeing his mint chocolate that matches his hair, Jaemin notices, and says, “The only problem with eating ice cream—”

“There are problems when eating ice cream?” Jisung interrupts with a creased brow and looking quite affronted.

“Is that my hands get cold,” Chenle finishes, side-eying Donghyuck.

Donghyuck’s spoon is sticking out between his lips, ice cream on the corner of his mouth—he’s always been a messy eater—and glances at them all with wide eyes. “What? I’m not a fucking furnace, Lele.”

“Language,” Jaemin chastises. He reaches over with a napkin to wipe Donghyuck’s mouth, but the redhead just swipes him away and rubs at it with his sleeve. Jaemin happens to know that if it had been Mark, Donghyuck would have let him do it with only a few choice words to make the whole thing more awkward. “And, technically, you are,” he adds with a sigh.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Thank you for demoting me to an inanimate object.”

“At least then you would talk less,” says Renjun and the rest of them snicker while Donghyuck hisses, “Bitch” under his breath. Jaemin response to this with a boney elbow to Donghyuck’s side.

“Fine,” Donghyuck decides finally. “Give them here, you oversized gummy.”

Chenle beams and slaps his hands into Donghyuck’s. “I love you.”

“You love the fact that I radiate heat. I know you,” Donghyuck grumbles, trying to look upset by the whole thing, but Jaemin knows better. He knows that Donghyuck is just as soft for them as they are to him even if they don’t want to be. He just doesn’t like showing it. He likes being helpful and he likes making them laugh.

When he’s satisfied, Chenle pulls away and presses his hands to his cheeks. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck says gruffly.

Jaemin smiles. When he chances a look to Jisung, he finds the boy stabbing his scoop of chocolate swirl. He’s biting his lip and has clearly checked out of the conversation. Not want to draw attention, Jaemin nudges his leg under the table and Jisung glances up. Jaemin raises a brow in an ‘Are you okay?’ gesture. Jisung shrugs and turns his attention back to his ice cream.

It’s hard, Jaemin thinks, to want something so badly that everyone else has and have no control on whether or not you’ll receive it.

Jaemin decides to leave it at that. Jisung will open up when he wants to, he’s sure. So, they finish their ice cream and Renjun heads home. Chenle’s driver is there to get him, though he spends a few more minutes chatting to Jisung excitedly about a new game they just _have_ to try, and Jaemin wonders how Chenle is the older one of the two, even though it’s only by a few months. Soon enough, Jisung, Jaemin, and Donghyuck are on their way.

Even though Jaemin lives several streets over, he finds himself following Donghyuck home instead. It’s not like he has homework, or that Donghyuck’s even going to do his. They have time before the sun completely sets and Jaemin will have to drag himself home.

“I think we should do it again,” Jisung says suddenly as they get closer to the end of their street.

Donghyuck raises a brow. “We get ice cream, like, every week.”

“No, I mean,” he inhales, “what we did a couple nights ago.”

Jaemin presses his fingers to his temple. “Oh, no. No, not you, too, Jisung.”

“Shush, Nana,” says Donghyuck. He throws an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. This is slightly funny since Jisung is definitely a little too tall for Donghyuck to be doing that. “The boy makes some great suggestions.”

“You only like them because they’re virtually your suggestions. You’re corrupting the boy.”

“It’s not like you stopped me.”

“No one can stop you, you hothead,” replies Jaemin with a sigh.

Donghyuck shoots Jisung a grin. “This,” he says, “is very true. Even still, I think the kid has a solid idea. I think we should definitely do something like that again. It’ll be fun. Don’t worry so much, Nana.”

“Oh, because the last time worked out so well,” points out Jaemin.

“We didn’t get caught.”

“We were so close, Hyuck. So. Freaking. Close.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “The past is the past. Don’t dwell on it so much.”

There’s a part of Jaemin that wants to wring Donghyuck’s neck, but he holds himself back. Mainly because his attention is solely on Jisung now. The boy is watching Donghyuck babble on about all the places they could sneak into with a slight smile, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Jaemin wonders what the real reason behind the sudden need is. It could, he thinks, quite possible that he enjoys it because it’s the most thrilling thing he can do without powers and with all of them. Jaemin’s heart hurts at the thought.

Donghyuck’s words are cut short when they all notice two figures standing outside Donghyuck’s home. The young man with red hair that could rival Donghyuck’s spots them first. He raises a hand in greeting, causing the other, taller figure to turn. Jaemin would recognize that caramel hair and those round eyes anywhere.

“Hey,” Jungwoo greets as they all come to a stop. “Ice cream run? And you didn’t get me any?”

“How the hell did you know we got ice cream?” Donghyuck asks, eyes flitting to the other, redheaded man with an accusatory look. But Jungwoo simply points at Donghyuck’s chin, causing him to swear under his breath and rub at the small spot of ice cream he didn’t get earlier. Jaemin and Jisung snicker.

“I got to go,” Jisung says. “See you tomorrow. See you, Jungwoo, Taeyong.”

They wave him off as he jogs across the street to his house. Once he’s inside, Jungwoo turns back to them with a tilted head.

“No Jeno or Mark today?” he asks.

“Mark has basketball practice,” Donghyuck replies swiftly.

“Jeno is doing,” Jaemin shrugs, “who knows what.”

“Well, mom and dad won’t be home for a while. Company dinner thing, or whatever. Pizza?” Jungwoo directs the question to Donghyuck, who nods. “You staying, Jaemin?”

“I guess, if that’s okay.”

Jungwoo smiles. “Always. I like you better anyway.”

“I’m literally right here,” Donghyuck complains and Jungwoo pulls him by the collar to put him into a headlock. Donghyuck let’s out a shrill, startled squeak—that he later pretends definitely didn’t happen—and wiggles in his cousin’s hold.

Jaemin watches them, chuckling at his friend’s distress, and a second later he remembers that there’s a fourth person there. Taeyong is staring at the scrabble in front of him with a fond smile and his hands buried deep in his pockets. It doesn’t matter how often Jaemin meets Taeyong, the man never seems to lose that knowing look in his eye. Perhaps, it was because he did know. He knew everything that flittered through anyone’s mind.

Jaemin doesn’t have to wonder if that’s why he’s always so uneasy around Taeyong. There’s something innately uncomfortable knowing there’s no way to stop his thoughts from being read.

He sucks in a breath when Taeyong’s sharp eyes snap to him. His hand grips the strap of his backpack as his eyes shoot to his shoes.

“You don’t have to worry,” says a soft voice, and Jaemin nearly jumps out of his skin when he finds that Taeyong has moved to stand beside him. “I understand.”

Jaemin can’t stop the “Sorry” that tumbles from his lips and Taeyong simply smiles.

“Get off me!” Donghyuck shouts as he finally manages to push Jungwoo off him and stumble over to Jaemin’s side to take hold of his wrist. Before Jaemin knows it, he’s being pulled towards the front door. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love me!” Jungwoo calls back, his arms coming up to create a large heart.

Donghyuck stops at the door, holding it open with his hand, and looks back at his cousin. “The only person stupid enough to love you is Lucas.”

Jungwoo’s arms drop. “What did you just say? Yah! You brat, get back here!”

But Donghyuck is already slamming the door closed and racing up the steps to his room, his infectious laughter trailing behind him. Jaemin kicks off his shoes, placing them with the others—he even fixes Donghyuck’s like he usually does—and follows after his friend.

Donghyuck’s room isn’t anything special. At least, that’s what he says. It’s simplistic, to say the least. Jaemin remembers when he first met Donghyuck and instantly pegged him as someone with a messy and chaotic sort of living space, but it turned out it was the exact opposite. Donghyuck doesn’t waste money on figurines like Chenle, or books like Renjun, or even games and stuffies like Jaemin or Jeno. His room was free of plenty of items that would have made the place at least feel like a teenager’s bedroom. Sure, he had some clothes thrown over his desk chair, his secondary school uniform hanging on the back of the closet door. His bed sheets were a stark contrast to the pale walls in colors of neon yellow and midnight blue. The furniture was somewhat simple as well, though not really Donghyuck’s style. It was clear the room used to be a guest room before Donghyuck moved in.

The only thing that seems slightly out of place is the round, stuffed lion that sits at the head of Donghyuck’s bed. It was a gift from Mark, though Donghyuck doesn’t talk about why he received it or why he’s even bothered to keep it when he’s constantly saying stuffed toys are useless dust collectors.

Jaemin drops his bag by the desk, steals a pillow from Donghyuck’s bed and flops on the floor while Donghyuck throws himself into the bed with a content sigh. This is their normal placement. Sometimes they both end up on the floor, or both in the bed, but usually they keep this arrangement and Jaemin isn’t even sure why it’s a tradition now.

He glances up to find Donghyuck typing into his phone, his lips threatening to smile. Jaemin knows that smile.

“Mark?” he asks, even though he doesn’t need to.

Donghyuck throws his phone beside him and sighs. “The idiot forgot his backpack in the change room and now he’s waiting for the janitor to open it.”

“Hey, he’s your idiot.”

“ _Ours_ ,” presses Donghyuck. “I lost soul custody when you all joined in.”

Jaemin rolls on his side to watch his friend. Donghyuck has his eyes closed, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones. It was rare to find Donghyuck so calm, so tired. Jaemin wonders if that’s what he’s really like or if this is a just him charging up to create more mayhem. Sometimes it was tricky to tell.

He hums and squishes his cheek against the pillow. “Are you mad about it?”

Donghyuck cracks an eye open to look at him. “Mad about what?”

“Us crashing your duo?”

He’s surprised to find Donghyuck shaking his head right away. Another rarity; Donghyuck being honest, perfect and raw. Jeno likes to hide his sensitivity, but Donghyuck likes to hide that and plenty of other things about himself. Jaemin’s sure he and Mark may be the only people he allows to see it.

“Wouldn’t have as much fun if you guys weren’t around,” says Donghyuck quietly, and his eyes are closing.

“My, my.” Jaemin smiles. “Donghyuck Lee is that a compliment I’m hearing?”

“I think you need to clean out your ears, Nana,” Donghyuck tells him as he sets himself up on his elbows and grabbing his phone to read the new message. He snorts. “Why do we keep him?”

“Because he’s cute and awkward and he keeps everyone sane even though we don’t admit it?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

Despite Donghyuck’s earlier jab, Jungwoo still brings them plates of pizza about an hour later. His boyfriend, Lucas, is downstairs, and the only reason they know that is because Lucas can be as loud, if not louder, than Donghyuck, and he’s currently yelling at the television. His boomingly deep voice drifts up the steps. Jungwoo simply sighs, hands off the plates, and walks off shouting at Lucas to “Calm the fuck down”.

“What do you think he’s doing?” Jaemin asks as he steals a glance at his phone. There are still no messages.

Donghyuck glances up from phone, mid-bite. “Who?”

“Jeno.”

“Oh, worried about your boyfriend?” Donghyuck’s smirk is not appreciated. Jaemin fights the urge to whip the pillow at him, but it’s not hard. He’s comfy and if he throws it then he won’t have anything to cushion his head anymore.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jaemin manages to grit out.

Running a hand through his red locks, Donghyuck chuckles. “You want him to be, though. Don’t give me that look. You’re a horrible liar, Jaemin Na.”

Jaemin looks at his phone again and mutters, “At least I’m not in denial.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Donghyuck is finishing off his last piece of pizza, the little bit of crust still between his fingers and red sauce outlining his upper lip. He’s flicking through something on his phone, but the screen is too dark to really be able to see what it is. Jaemin is about to look away when the crust promptly falls from Donghyuck’s fingers onto the plate. Usually, a normal person could chalk that up to being clumsy, but Donghyuck’s hand is trembling.

He’s suddenly on his feet, throwing himself to his backpack and tearing into it. Jaemin is at his side in seconds with the water Jungwoo had brought with the food, rubbing slow, calming circles between Donghyuck’s shoulder blades. He’s burning up. Jaemin can feel the heat curling through his shirt. Donghyuck’s always been naturally warm, but this is scorching. Jaemin fights himself to keep his hand on his friend.

With shaking fingers, Donghyuck manages to pull out a white bottle. He pops it open and several red capsule pills tumble out. Into his palm. Onto the floor. He discards the collection in his hand straight to the floor with the others, leaving just one between his fingers, and tosses it into his mouth. Jaemin hands him the glass.

For a minute, no one says anything. It’s quiet except for the muffled sounds of the television downstairs and Donghyuck’s uneven breathing. When it’s slowed, Donghyuck leans back on his hands. Jaemin picks up all the pills and drops them back into the bottle, before placing it back in the front pocket of Donghyuck’s backpack.

“You okay?” Jaemin finally asks, crossing his legs in front of Donghyuck.

The redhead is looking tired, his eyes a little red. Donghyuck’s always had lighter brown eyes, not like Jaemin’s, which were dark like the night sky. Now, though, they’re golden. Bright and alit. In a few minutes, they’ll be back to normal.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck breathes. He runs a hand down his face. “God, yeah. I’m fine. Just—Just don’t tell Jungwoo. Or Mark. Please. They think I’m doing better.”

Biting his lip, Jaemin eyes the backpack. “How often do you take them?”

“Two or three times a day,” comes the reply. “Four if it’s a bad day.”

“How much do they think you’re taking?”

“One or two. Jungwoo makes sure I take the morning one.”

Jaemin just nods.

“Hey,” he says, peeking out the window. He can see the tree in the backyard from here, the rickety old treehouse Jungwoo, Lucas, and Mark built years ago for Donghyuck after he had a fairly bad episode. “Come on.”

He helps Donghyuck to his feet before peeling off his school jacket—honestly, he should have taken it off earlier, but he’s also well aware that he’s lazy when it comes to certain things—which he tosses on Donghyuck’s bed, and leads them both downstairs and out the back door. They both try to ignore the fact that Lucas has Jungwoo pinned to the couch in a heated make-out session.

They’re halfway across the yard when Donghyuck scoffs. “Really, Nana?”

Jaemin is already pulling himself up the rope ladder when he says, “Don’t knock the clubhouse.”

Donghyuck’s response is a roll of his eyes, but he follows nonetheless. The treehouse isn’t small by any means, though that doesn’t mean it’s meant to hold two relatively big sixteen-year-old boys. Granted, they’ve managed to fit all seven of them in the clubhouse before. It just meant that they had to take turns sitting in each other’s laps to make up for lost space. Plus, a whole lot of ducking.

They tuck themselves into the corners. The older blankets they brought up a month and a bit ago are still here and looking ruffled. As much as Donghyuck says he doesn’t use the clubhouse anymore, Jaemin wonders if that’s a lie. It certainly looks as if someone has slept in it recently.

On the wall are carvings. Jaemin reaches out to run his fingers over them.

_Hypnos_

_Haechan_

_Vox_

_Fauna_

_Flora_

_Gummy Bear_

Beside each one is a dark, slightly brown, finger print. He still remembers how much his finger had hurt when Jeno dug the knife into his skin.

“If you ever move, you’re going to have to paint over these or someone is going to think there was some occult stuff happening,” he says nonchalantly.

Donghyuck makes himself comfortable on the blankets. “There was.”

Jaemin’s voice is meek when he asks, “Do you think Jisung will ever be on here?”

A beat of silence. Then, he says, “We’ll put him up there regardless. Power or not. He deserves it if he can survive to sixteen with us as friends.”

“You mean with _you_ as a friend,” Jaemin pokes. “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re the most chaotic one.”

“Excuse you,” Donghyuck balks and he kicks his foot at Jaemin, who moves swiftly out of the way with a laugh. “You guys are not much better.”

They fall back into the quiet. The leaves on the tree brush against the side of the clubhouse and it’s a sound that starts lulling Jaemin to sleep. The sun is setting as well, which doesn’t help them any. The only light now is the solar one Mark hooked up to the window. Donghyuck’s already got his eyes closed and by the shallowness of his breathing, Jaemin is fairly certain he’s about to fall completely into his dreams.

He barely makes it through a text to his mom, letting her know where he is, before it falls from his fingers and his eyelids shut. The last thing he thinks is that Jeno still hasn’t texted him back.

*

Renjun is rubbing the paint off his hand when Jaemin stops by his locker after fight period. He’s not exactly in a good mood, though he tries his best to smile at his friend.

He and Donghyuck had woken up by Jungwoo’s yelling, a little too late to clean up and eat breakfast. While Jaemin tried to finger his hair to not look like a bird’s nest and straighten out his slightly creased school uniform, Donghyuck clearly didn’t care. He went straight to the cereal cupboard with bedhead and a destroyed looking uniform. Jaemin did managed to chug a glass of orange juice, watching as Jungwoo stared Donghyuck down when he took his morning pill. Top all that off with the fact that his body is definitely not happy for being cramped together for so long, Jaemin is just peachy.

When the last bit of paint is chipped away, Renjun takes out his History book and greets him. “You look terrible.”

“Why thank you, Renjun,” Jaemin says, his smile tightening. “I very much appreciate that. Let me lock that compliment in the back of my mind to pull to the front every time I need more confidence.”

Renjun raises a brow. “Someone is touchy this morning. I just mean that you look tired. What were you doing? Were you up all night?”

“No,” he grumbles. He tries to work at the muscles in the back of his neck. They’re stiff. He has no idea how Donghyuck was able to jump up and leap from the treehouse—without the ladder, mind you—as if he hadn’t been twisted in the most uncomfortable position all night. Sometimes Jaemin wonders if he even has bones. “We fell asleep in the clubhouse.”

“We?”

“Donghyuck and I.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you two were—”

Jaemin slams his hand over Renjun’s mouth with a sneer. “ _And_ I’m going to stop you right there before you say something you regret and that will probably make me vomit. We were just hanging out and fell asleep. Then, we got up late, and I’m just tired and feel gross and I want to go home.”

“Well, Jeno definitely has you beat there.”

At that, Jaemin stops. “What do you mean?”

Renjun tilts his head. “Didn’t you know? Jeno called in sick today. I thought he would have texted you.”

Now, Jaemin knows that Renjun isn’t trying to taunt him with his words. He really does. There’s nothing in those words that even should feel remotely like a taunt, but the fact that Renjun seems so uninterested as he says his final sentence, now focused on closing his locker, paired with the fact that Jeno most definitely did _not_ message him this morning or last night that matter, that rubs Jaemin the wrong way. His fingers tighten on his books, his jaw locking.

Through gritted teeth, he asks, “And how did you find out?”

Renjun isn’t stupid, and he probably can feel the irritation radiating from Jaemin. Still, he says nothing about that and, if possible, looks even more uninterested about the whole thing than he did three seconds ago.

“Donghyuck told me.”

“Donghyuck? He texted Donghyuck before me?”

“Shocking, really.”

Jaemin blinks. “Wait, how did Donghyuck tell you? You two have homeroom on the opposite ends of the school.”

Renjun simply shrugs. “He was in the hallway when I got out of class. Didn’t look like he went, actually.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Jaemin growls. “I’m going to cut him open, fill his body with rocks, and dump him in the river.”

“Touchy and violent,” Renjun points out.

Jaemin sighs, trying to calm his muscles. Being upset makes them tight and he hurts too much for that to continue. They start down the hall towards their History room. He remembers Donghyuck and Jeno giving him twin looks of appalment when he told them he was going to take another History lesson. They could deal. He liked it.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

“Apparently.”

When they make it to class, Jaemin pulls out his phone and shoots another text to Jeno, asking where he is. By lunch, Jeno still hasn’t responded and Jaemin is starting to feel very antsy, and maybe a little frustrated. Jeno isn’t the type to leave messages unread. He responds promptly, almost too quickly to be human. Now all he’s getting is radio silence and it doesn’t sit well with him.

Donghyuck is already at their usual table when Renjun and Jaemin arrive. He’s got a tray of food, but he’s touched none of it and he’s clearly slid it off to the side. Instead, he’s typing into his phone, only looking up when the two of them sit down across from him.

“Where are the kids?” Jaemin asks.

Donghyuck reaches over to snatch a carrot stick from the tray and stick it in his mouth. “Chenle is with his English teacher and Jisung is waiting for him. They’ll be here soon.”

Leave it to Donghyuck to pretend he doesn’t care about any of them, yet have all the right tabs on them. Jaemin is impressed.

He eyes the tray. “Are you not going to eat any of that? Other than the one random carrot stick?”

There’s a flicker of confusion in Donghyuck’s eyes, carrot hanging out of his mouth. He glances at the tray as if it’s a brand-new addition to the table. Then his face morphs, realization settling in.

“Oh, that’s Mark’s,” he says, turning back to his phone.

“I thought Mark had practice?”

“Coach cancelled. He left to get a drink because the idiot forgot.”

“And where is your lunch?” Renjun asks.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Didn’t have time to make one.”

Jaemin knows it’s true since he was there in the rush, but it doesn’t stop him from saying, “You never do. Here. Eat.”

He takes his fruit cup and places it under Donghyuck’s phone.

“I’m good.”

“Donghyuck, honey,” Jaemin says, smiling sweetly, “I didn’t ask.”

He feels accomplished when Donghyuck finally picks up the fork and stabs it through a piece of melon. He stares right at Jaemin’s smirking face as he shoves it into his mouth, making a show of chewing. Happy, Jaemin turns back to his own food.

Mark returns a few minutes later, taking his spot beside Donghyuck, who turns without looking up from his phone to throw his legs over Mark’s lap. Mark sighs, but doesn’t say anything. He scoots a bit closer to piece of pizza, one hand securing Donghyuck’s legs in place. Jaemin wonders how Mark survives when he’s so freaking whipped into oblivion.

When Chenle and Jisung arrive, it becomes so very apparent that Jeno is definitely not there. It wasn’t like he was expecting him to magically show up, and yet there he was, constantly looking over his shoulder just in case. Honestly, it’s sad.

He turns back from his fifteenth check to see Mark staring. Jaemin tries to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his mind and the heat in his cheeks from getting caught. There’s no way that Mark doesn’t realize he’s spent the majority of his time looking for Jeno. Who is very clearly at home right now.

Mark opens his mouth to say something when Donghyuck’s legs finally fall from his lap. The redhead reaches over to take the piece of pizza from Mark’s hand and shoves it into his mouth, locking gazes with Mark challengingly.

“I paid for that,” is all Mark says. “You owe me another piece.”

Donghyuck, the ever-loving-menace he is, winks. “I’m sure I can pay you back somehow.”

Jaemin, face falling in his hands, sighs. He doesn’t need to look to know Mark’s face is as red as a tomato at that very second. Donghyuck and his careless, careless words.

He looks up just in time to see Mark reaching for a napkin before pulling Donghyuck closer. Donghyuck, unlike when Jaemin tried before, stays still as Mark wipes the sauce from his face.

“You’re a mess,” Mark tells him, cheeks still pink.

Raising a brow, Donghyuck says, “Do you do this just so you can get close to my lips?”

Mark lets out a loud groan and falls back into his seat, tossing the napkin at a laughing Donghyuck. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you’re so easy to tease!”

“Donghyuck, leave Mark alone,” Jaemin orders. Mark shoots him a thankful smile.

The thing was, Jaemin isn’t even sure Donghyuck does it intentionally. Jaemin truly believes that Donghyuck has no idea that Mark has liked him for years. He’s just making comments because Mark can’t control his reactions and he finds it humorous. Jaemin feels for him, he really does, because at least Jeno isn’t like that.

“Hey, Nana?” Jaemin looks to Chenle who’s holding up his math homework. “Can you check this?”

That’s how Jaemin spends the rest of his lunch, his mind focused on parabolas and nowhere near a boy names Jeno Lee.

*

Jaemin finds himself outside Jeno’s house after school. He shifts his bag farther up his shoulder as he stares at the small, white house. The gate creaks when he finally gains enough courage to push it open. His heart is doing that weird pounding thing in his chest again and he tries to ignore it as he reaches up to knock on the door.

He’s been to Jeno’s house before. They grew up together, their parents having met at their shared daycare. Going between each other’s houses, no matter how far away they were, was normal. However, this felt different. There was something about the drawn curtains and the utter silence of the inside that makes Jaemin uncomfortable.

No one answers the door, so he knocks again. If Jeno is sick, he may be sleeping, or just simply in his room with his earbuds in. Jaemin hopes he’s taking care of himself. Jeno can be such a baby when he’s sick.

The door swings open and Jaemin takes a startled step back. Jeno’s father is staring at him, like he’s shocked Jaemin is there. Usually he’s pleased. Jaemin doesn’t like to toot his own horn, but Jeno’s parents love him.

“Jaemin, what are you doing here?” Mr. Lee asks. There are bags under his eyes, his hair a little longer and definitely not as styled at Jaemin remembers it being. In fact, it looks as though he just woke up from a restless nap.

“I,” Jaemin tries to peek around Jeno’s dad, but finds nothing but an empty hallway, “am looking for Jeno?”

“Jeno? He’s not here. He hasn’t been home all day. Did he say he’d meet you here after school or something?”

Jaemin frowns. Why on earth would Jeno not be at home if he said he was sick? This time, it’s not his heart that’s turning, it’s his stomach. Something is definitely not right.

“Or something.”

He apologizes to Mr. Lee for interrupting and hurries away. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket when he’s halfway home. He sees Jeno’s name and instantly exhales a sigh of relief. At least he’s still alive and is finally answering him. He opens the message.

He halts.

_Heyy! Sorry for not answering sooner_

_I’m home sick_

_I’ll be at school tomorrow_

_Don’t miss me too much_ **😉**

Jaemin reaches out for the nearest thing, which happens to be the fence of someone’s front yard, when he feels his legs weaken. Just what the hell was Jeno up to?

*

It isn’t a surprise that Jaemin doesn’t sleep well. He’s tossing and turning all night, his mind repeating Jeno’s message over and over in his head. Clearly, Jeno wasn’t sick if he hadn’t been home all day. He really hoped this wasn’t another replay of when Jeno disappeared from school for three days straight because he had been hiding an injured bear cub in his garage. Of course, Jaemin had known that was why he was missing and constantly tried to convince him to let the thing loose because “Jeno, you may be able to talk to animals, but that doesn’t mean you’re protected from them.”

“But it needs my help, Nana. I just want it to be healed before I release it,” Jeno had said.

Needless to say, the cub was picked up by the Wildlife Center a day later because Jeno’s mother discovered Jaemin and Jeno in the bathroom, desperately trying to clean out the nice cut the bear had clawed into Jeno’s arm.

This was different, though. So much different because this time Jeno isn’t communicating the majority of the time and when he does, he lies. Jaemin isn’t sure which hurts more. 

Jaemin wants to be angry. In fact, he shows up to school the next day ready to be angry and to demand where Jeno’s been this whole time.

The only flaw in that plan, is that the moment he spots Jeno, standing at his locker and looking so effortlessly handsome in his boring school uniform, Jaemin loses all the anger he stored up. He can feel it leak out of him like a popped balloon.

As he gets closer, Jeno glances in his direction. His eyes turn into those perfect crescents and his lips part in a brilliant smile. It’s enough to take Jaemin’s breath away. He tries his hardest to keep his feet moving.

“Nana!” Jeno greets happily.

He looks okay, Jaemin notes as he steps up to Jeno’s locker. He doesn’t seem pale or sickly, though twenty-four-hour flus were most definitely a thing. Jaemin should know. He got hit with that weeks ago. Even still, the whole situation is a little fishy.

He wants to ask. God, he wants to ask so badly, but his mouth won’t form the right words. Instead, he asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, actually.”

“Really, huh?”

Jeno casts him a side-ways glance, an eyebrow slowly raising. “Yes?”

Jaemin slaps him on the arm—the one he knew isn’t bruised because he’s not that cruel—and says over Jeno’s whimper, “You didn’t answer me all day! I had to find out from Renjun—from Renjun!—that you weren’t going to be in school. You texted _Donghyuck_ before me? Really? Jeno Lee, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Rubbing his arm, Jeno straightens. Jaemin knows he’s trying to catch his gaze, but Jaemin is almost as stubborn as Donghyuck, so he’s crossed his arms tightly over his chest and is staring determinedly at the wall beside him.

“Come on, Nana,” Jeno whines. He grabs Jaemin’s shoulder and forces him to look his way. “Look, I’m really, really sorry.” At the sight of Jeno’s soft smile Jaemin can’t help but sigh. Damn it, he wants to be mad. Why won’t his body listen to him? Jeno throws an arm around his shoulders. “Please, forgive me? Donghyuck was at the top of my contact list and I could barely see anything, I was so dizzy. I promise I’ll text you first next time, okay?”

Jaemin frowns. “There shouldn’t be a next time. Take better care of yourself.”

“I will,” Jeno chuckles. “Promise.”

Jeno’s arm is still around his shoulders when Jeno reaches into his locker to pull out his science textbook. He’s got biology for homeroom; something he complains about on the daily. Jaemin still isn’t completely sure why he decided to take it when he so clearly hates it, especially since the upper years have to do dissections and Jeno—while he pretends not to be—is sensitive to the core about animals. Perhaps it had something to do with his power and his ability to connect with them both mentally and emotionally. Jaemin still remembers meeting Jeno in the bathroom, a year ago, after they cut open a frog. It took thirty-three minutes to calm him down enough to stop crying. They don’t talk about it.

The thing is, Jeno really doesn’t look sick. There’s no red nose, which Jaemin would assume he’d have if he had a cold. Okay, he does seem a bit tired, but they’ve all gone through those restless nights and this doesn’t seem any out of the ordinary from a normal exhausted Jeno. In fact, Jeno is clearly freshly showered since his black hair is slightly poufy from air drying and he’s got color to his cheeks that looks healthy. His movements don’t seem any stiffer than they normally do.

Then he notices something. Jaemin reaches up to touch Jeno’s cheek, but before his fingers can brush his skin Jeno is flinching away, taking his arm with it. The warmth Jaemin was getting along his side is instantly ripped away.

“Are you,” Jaemin asks slowly, “wearing cover-up?”

Jeno brings a hand to his face. The color on his cheeks darken slightly. “Um, maybe?” He’s not looking at Jaemin anymore. “I slept really badly and the dark circles were ridiculous. I just figured it may help instead of looking like a zombie.”

Jaemin wants to mention that Jeno seems to be lying through his teeth, but he doesn’t. He bites down on his tongue hard enough it hurts and refuses to say anything, especially when Jeno finally looks up, hand rubbing at nape of his neck and a sheepish smile pulling at his lips.

“You’re lucky your mom has the same skin tone as you,” is all Jaemin manages and Jeno laughs.

When Jeno finally closes his locker, he swings his arm around Jaemin’s shoulders again and pulls him down the hall. He drops Jaemin off to first period and tells him he’ll see him at lunch. It isn’t until Jaemin is sitting at his desk, textbook out, that he realizes that Jeno only had cover-up under one eye.

*

The thing is, Jaemin is sure something is up, but he just can’t figure it out. And he doesn’t know how to bring it up. It honestly shouldn’t be as hard as it is. Usually, he’s so good at making sure people are okay. He’s the one people go to when they need to talk, when they need to deal with an issue. Okay, so Mark is also one of those people, but he’s sometimes too busy so Jaemin ends up being the runner-up. So, why couldn’t he talk to his own best friend?

They’ve been friends for so long. They’ve talked about everything. Now, Jeno is clearly hiding something and Jaemin is scared to know what could be so bad that Jeno doesn’t even want to tell him, let alone anyone else.

Part of him just really wants Jeno to come to him. The last thing he wants to do it try to be intrusive. Still, he can’t help the uneasy twist of his stomach every time he notices that Jeno is favoring his one arm and that he’s still using cover-up under one eye even days later.

At one point, Jaemin asks Mark about it, wondering if he’s noticed it, too.

“Do you think Jeno’s okay? Do you think he’s acting weird?”

“Oh,” Mark had said, scratching his head, “I don’t know. He seems fine, Nana. Don’t worry so much.” He ruffles Jaemin’s hair. “I’ll keep an eye out, though. How’s that?”

The thing is, Jaemin isn’t convinced that will help. Something is clearly happening right in front of their eyes and Jeno is acting as if nothing has changed.

It isn’t until the next Friday when Jaemin really decides something is most definitely not okay with Jeno

They’re all siting on the bleachers waiting for Mark’s basketball game to start. Chenle is trying to get the popcorn that Jisung has lifted high above his head. It’s not fair really. Jisung used to be the shortest one, but now he’s taller than all of them and he’s barely fourteen.

Jeno laughs at Renjun’s comment about the horrible school mascot, who’s somehow tripped and fallen over the bench and now struggling to get up while keeping its head on. Occasionally, he laughs so hard that he nearly falls back and uses Jaemin’s thigh to keep him balanced. The warmth in his hand is somewhat reassuring, though it also doesn’t stop Jaemin from feeling hot in the cheeks at the overall touch.

Jaemin, trying to ignore the hand clutching his leg, glances to his right. Donghyuck has his elbows perched on his knees, hands under his chin, as he leans forward to watch the game. Mark shoots up to swat the ball away from the rival team and rushes down the court. The pounding of the ball and the squeaks of sneakers on hardwood fill the room.

“Think he’ll get that scholarship?” Jaemin asks.

Donghyuck’s eyebrows twitch, but he doesn’t tear his eyes from the game. Jaemin doesn’t know how the redhead can only put his full focus on Mark when Mark is too far away to notice. He doesn’t mention it, however, because Donghyuck can get defensive and Jaemin really doesn’t need to deal with that right now.

“He will if he doesn’t mess up,” Donghyuck mutters. Then he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “What are you waiting for, loser? Get the fucking ball!”

On the court, Mark turns at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice and the ball is thrown over his head. Jaemin can see Mark cast Donghyuck a glare before racing after his teammates. The coach shoots Donghyuck a warning glare, probably for the language, and Donghyuck simply smiles, very pleased with himself.

“Very nice, Hyuck,” Jeno says. “Way to distract him.”

“Not my fault he can’t ignore me,” Donghyuck replies with a shrug.

“Dude, no one can ignore that. You’re so loud.”

“Why thank you.”

Jaemin shakes his head. “Don’t look so proud. If you cost Mark his scholarship, he won’t be the only one murdering you. We’ll all be there with the shovels.”

A mocking gasp escapes Donghyuck’s lips as he presses a hand to his heart. “Why do you hate me so?”

“If Donghyuck dies, can I have his laptop?” Renjun inquires and Donghyuck steals a handful of popcorn from Jisung to throw at him. Jaemin and Jeno flinch backwards, causing Jeno’s hand to lift from Jaemin’s thigh so he can brush off the popped cornels from his lap.

“Oh!”

Chenle’s yell gains all their attentions and they watch while Mark throws the ball into the basket. It swooshes against the net and everyone claps. Jaemin and the others scream as loud as they can because they want to be as obnoxious as possible. It’s worth it when Mark hides his face and pretends he doesn’t know them. However, when the windows along the walls start shaking, the coach shouts at Chenle to settle down and the boy shrinks in his seat.

“I’m actually kind of worried,” Jaemin voices out during half-time. “Mark said that it’ll be harder for him to get the scholarship since he’s referring a year. They’re going to want to give it to someone who’s starting in the fall.”

“If anyone can get it, it’ll be him, though,” Chenle says. “Mark’s too good of a talent to pass up.”

“He’s charming, too,” Donghyuck puts in quietly. When everyone looks at him, he blinks. Almost as if he hasn’t realized he’s spoken allowed. He quickly says, “I just mean he easily wins people over. He’s friendly and he can use that whole socially-awkward thing to get the on the scout’s good side.”

Jaemin hums, his lips curling into a smile. Donghyuck scoffs and turns back to the court. The teams are falling into position again.

“He gets a chance to talk to them, right?” Jaemin asks and Donghyuck nods. “Maybe you’re right then. He’ll have nothing to worry about.”

“As long as he can calm down enough to form a sentence. We all know what he’s like when he gets nervous,” Jeno adds.

They all nod silently, watching as their friend rushes across the court, steals the ball, and manages another three-pointer. The thing is, Mark is good. He’s so good that Jaemin wonders why the idea of going professional never crossed his mind. The one time he had asked Mark, his response was a very strong, “Me? Professional? No way. Too much pressure.”

And, yet, there he is, putting pressure on himself to get a scholarship and spot on a university varsity team. There were rare times that Mark Lee was a mystery and this was one of those times.

When the game ends—Mark’s team having won, to no shock to his friends—Mark sends them a gesture to let them know he’ll be back after he showers and changes. Jaemin uses the waiting time to make Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck clean up the popcorn they had thrown everywhere. Or, at least he tries to get Donghyuck to clean up. That, of course, doesn’t happen. Somehow, he manages to escape to race down the bleachers with Jeno to talk to the rest of the team that has yet to disappear into the changeroom. Renjun remains entirely useless to the whole process by stretching out along the bleacher seat with his phone in hand.

Once they’re done, Jaemin heads down to meet Donghyuck and Jeno with the kids. The rest of the team has dispersed now, leaving his two friends talking amongst themselves. Donghyuck glances at Jaemin for the briefest of seconds before turning back to Jeno. Jeno hasn’t turned yet, which gives Jaemin the perfect opportunity to come up behind him and pinch his sides just light enough to scare him.

But Jeno jumps a little too high and shouts a little too loud for it to be normal and it leaves them all frozen. Pink rises from his neck to his ears.

“I—I’m sorry. I don’t know why I freaked out so much,” he mutters. Jaemin notices the way he touches his side, as if Jaemin had done some serious damage. “Man, I must be really tired or something.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” asks Jaemin, taking a hesitant step forward.

He tries not to feel hurt when Jeno takes a half-step away. “No, of course not.” He straightens, but Jaemin can see how awkward it is. “Just spooked me. Geez, Nana, have you been working on your ninja skills or something?”

Before Jaemin can reply, Donghyuck says, “Maybe you were just too taken by my stunning good looks to hear him.”

Jisung snorts and Chenle chuckles into Renjun’s shoulder. Jeno casts Donghyuck a unimpressed look. “You ain’t that pretty, dude.”

Donghyuck’s mouth pops open. “Excuse you! I’m gorgeous. Just because you think Nana is the prettiest thing, doesn’t mean there aren’t other attractive people floating around.”

“Donghyuck,” Jaemin hisses, his face going hot.

The pink of Jeno’s cheeks darkens significantly.

“What?” asks Donghyuck, innocently. “It’s not a secret. He literally said it during the party we had a few months ago.”

“It’s true!” Chenle pipes up. “I remember that. All sleep deprived and chatty. ‘Why is Nana so pretty?’ It was really cute, Jeno.”

Jaemin spins on him. “Will you stop?”

He can hear the desperation in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He just wants them all to shut up. Apparently, when he and Jeno had agreed not to talk about that incident, no one else had approved. He still remembers it vividly. It was the first time Jeno had said something like that about him, the first time Jaemin’s heart had stuttered because of his best friend. He remembers the way his chest ached when Jeno laughed it off the next morning and told Jaemin he hadn’t meant it weirdly and ended the whole conversation with ‘We cool, bro?’.

Oh, yeah, Jaemin definitely remembers that.

Thankfully, the whole conversation is saved when Mark comes over, blond hair still dripping and now changed out of his basketball uniform into grey sweatpants and a graphic t-shirt. He looks like he’s still thrumming with game adrenaline.

“Hey, guys,” he says as he steps into the circle. “What are we talking about?”

Jaemin is sure he isn’t the only one that notices the way Donghyuck clearly checks Mark out before throwing himself onto his friend, arms wrapped around his shoulders and practically hanging off him. Mark startles and stares at him with wide eyes.

“Jeno says I’m not pretty,” whines Donghyuck. “You think I’m pretty, right?”

Poor Mark is stunned with his mouth hanging open just slightly. Jaemin hears Jisung and Chenle cackling behind him and, without looking, swipes both of his hands back to hit them. They both yelp and Mark and Donghyuck glance over. The distraction doesn’t last long, apparently, because Donghyuck’s attention is back on Mark like nothing happened, watching him expectantly.

Jaemin feels really, really badly for Mark.

Clearing his throat, cheeks red, Mark reaches up to grab Donghyuck and push him off. “Uh, sure, Hyuck. You’re very pretty. Um, anyway, we hanging out?”

Jeno shoots Jaemin a sneaky smirk and Jaemin shakes his head.

“I’m up for it,” Renjun says. “Anything to get out of this gym. It smells awful.”

“It’s called Ode de Boy,” Jeno jokes.

Renjun wrinkles his nose. “And that made it so much worse.”

“I’m in, too.” Chenle jumps up and down, a wide smile on his face. “What are we doing?”

“Ice cream?” Jisung suggests.

Donghyuck raises a brow. “That’s all you think about, isn’t it?”

“Every second.”

Jaemin chuckles. “At least the kid is honest.”

“I was thinking chilling at my place?” Mark suggests. “You can eat the ice cream in my freezer.”

“Sold,” Jisung says.

“God, you’re so easy to please, aren’t you?” Donghyuck’s wearing an expression that is very akin to amusement.

Jisung simply shrugs and reaches over to grab a handful of whatever popcorn is left in Chenle’s bucket. Chenle notices, however, and let’s out a squeal. “Get your own!” He ends up running around the circle to get away, but Jisung has longer legs and he’s faster, so he catches his green-haired friend in no time. They wrestle over the bucket while the others watch.

“Hey, is your mom going to be home?” Donghyuck asks.

Mark shakes his head. “Not until later tonight. She’s—Chenle, don’t pull Jisung’s hair!—on late shift. We can blast the music as loud as we want.”

“Awesome. I mean, not that I don’t love your mom, but right now I could use some music to pop my eardrums.”

“You’re so weird,” Jaemin says.

Donghyuck grins. “I live to be.”

After a bit more time, Jaemin finally gives up watching Chenle and Jisung fighting and goes over to pry them a part. Luckily, Renjun comes to help. They’re all heading to the door when Jeno speaks up.

“Uh, so,” he says tentatively, “I can’t come over.”

They all stop.

“I just…have a family thing.”

Donghyuck frowns. “Another one? Tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. But next time!”

Jaemin studies his friend’s face. He isn’t quite looking at them and his whole posture is off from the confident, straight-back one he normally sports. When he reaches up to scratch his cheek, clearly a little uncomfortable from all the staring, he winces ever so slightly when his fingers touch below his eye. It’s been several days, but the cover-up is still there and Jaemin feels like he’s the only one that’s noticed.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Jaemin questions.

Jeno’s eyes snap to him and for a moment he’s silent. Then he nods quickly, a slow smile spreading on his lips. “Of course! It’s nothing. Don’t look so worried. I’ll see you all on Monday. Great game, Mark.”

Mark puts his hand up in a slight wave. “Thanks, man. See you later.”

Everyone watches as Jeno jogs off. Jaemin waits until he’s completely disappeared around the corner before he looks at Donghyuck, who seems just as contemplative.

“That was odd, wasn’t it?”

He wants to know if he’s seeing things, if he’s overthinking everything. He wants to know if the churning in his stomach is simply him being slightly upset that Jeno will, once again, not be hanging out with him and that there’s nothing else going on.

But then Donghyuck nods and Jaemin’s stomach is dropping. “No, that was definitely something odd.”

“You guys coming?” Mark calls from the edge of the parking lot.

Donghyuck pats Jaemin on the shoulder. “Let’s go, kay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, his attention on where Jeno’s figure had just been. He shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to Donghyuck with a small smile. “Let’s not keep your boy waiting.”

With a roll of his eyes, Donghyuck throws his arm over Jaemin’s shoulders and spins him toward their friends. He leans over to hiss in Jaemin’s ear, “Keep going there and I’ll shove your head into the toilet.”

“I’m just saying that—”

“I’ll flush it, too.”

*

Jaemin feels like he shouldn’t be surprised when his responses from Jeno are short and far in between over the weekend. It’s like after every ‘family thing’ Jeno goes MIA, and Jaemin hates it. He figures that maybe he’s overreacting. Jeno’s allowed to have a life without him in it. He is. They aren’t dating. They have no solid ties that make them have to be with each other twenty-four-seven. He knows this well.

It still doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurts when Jeno takes five hours to respond to him when it should only take five minutes. Or that he doesn’t even respond at all. There use to be a time when Jaemin would scroll forever before he hit a different day and now, he can read three days’ worth of messages on his tiny screen.

“Do you think he’s avoiding you?” Donghyuck asks as he stretches across Jaemin’s bed.

Mark, who’s sitting at the desk, looks up from Jaemin’s English paper. Jaemin’s left his essay to the last minute again, which is due tomorrow. He’s glad Mark’s nice enough to drive over when he calls in pure panic that he thinks he’s messed up in several places and he needs help now. Just so happens that Mark was also with Donghyuck, so there’s an addition Jaemin wasn’t planning, but he doesn’t really care.

“Why would he be avoiding Jaemin? They’re best friends.” Mark says that as if it’s the most obvious answer. And, really, it should be. That still doesn’t explain the sudden distance.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Donghyuck drawls. He wiggles Jaemin’s phone between his fingers. Jaemin gave it to him to read the conversation in the hopes that his friend could calm his fears. So far, it’s not working. “Perhaps I’m getting the idea from the very short, very one-worded answers Jeno’s giving. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Where are you?’ ‘Home.’” Donghyuck glances up. “I mean, it doesn’t sound normal. He usually throws in more animal photos and he’s thrown in, oh, none.”

Mark holds out his hand and Donghyuck tosses the phone. Jaemin watches, shifting from one foot to the other, while Mark scans the messages. Then he frowns.

“Okay, yeah, that’s definitely weird.”

“Think he’s hiding another bear?” Donghyuck inquires. It’s a warranted curiosity.

Jaemin shakes his head. “He would tell me. Wouldn’t he?”

“Unless he’s worried that he’ll got caught like the last time?” suggests Mark. “You said he was wearing cover-up?”

“Yeah, under his one eye. You serious you never noticed?”

“I don’t really look that closely at Jeno, Nana,” he chuckles and Jaemin flushes. “I did notice him favoring his arm, though. But that’s not unheard of from Jeno. He’s sometimes a complete mess.”

“You say that as if you’re not,” Donghyuck says with a snort.

Shooting him a glare, Mark retorts, “This isn’t about my lack of coordination.”

“Still don’t know how you can go from tripping over nothing to being Mr. Golden-Child-Basketball-Star-Captain.”

“That’s—it’s—We aren’t all parkour geniuses.”

Donghyuck smirks. “Aw, you called me a genius.”

Mark whips an eraser at him, which Donghyuck dodges with a hearty laugh. Jaemin steps between them. “Can we please focus? I’m really worried here. Something isn’t right.”

Mark turns completely around in the chair and Donghyuck sits up. They stare at each other as if passing mental messages. Jaemin knows they can’t really do that. Neither of their powers are like that. It’s just an abnormal habit they do from being friends for so long. Jaemin and Jeno can do it as well. Of course, they haven’t really done so lately now that he thinks about it. Jeno’s always gone or talking to someone else.

“Maybe he really is avoiding me,” Jaemin whispers.

Mark and Donghyuck break their staring contest to look at him. He sighs and walks over to take a seat on the edge of his bed.

“I just don’t know why. What did I do?”

“Oh, Nana,” Mark exhales. “I don’t think you did anything. This is all on Jeno. Maybe you should just talk to him. Let him know what you’re thinking.”

He shakes his head. “Every time I want to demand answers I can’t. It’s like I just can’t get the words out of my mouth. I know he lied about being sick.” Donghyuck raises a brow. “I went to his house to see him and his dad said he wasn’t there. Acted like Jeno went to school and had just never come home. He told me he was at home. He lied to me. And he’s lied to all of us because I’m pretty sure he’s not doing a ‘family thing’. I know his lying face and that was his lying face. Both times.”

Donghyuck breathes deeply and when he opens his mouth Jaemin knows he’s about to say something Jaemin isn’t going to like. “Does he really need to tell us everything? Let the boy have some secrets. There is nothing wrong with secrets.”

“There is if he’s getting hurt!” Jaemin exclaims. “Secrets just mean burdens. If Jeno is going through something we should be helping him, not letting him deal with it on his own. Maybe that’s how _you_ deal with things, but that’s not Jeno.”

Mark glances at Donghyuck, who’s taken to picking at the blanket wrapped around his legs. When Donghyuck doesn’t look up, Mark rubs at his temple. Jaemin bites his lip. Okay, perhaps he should have phrased that differently, especially because he knows Donghyuck is hiding his pill intake and having episodes. He hopes Mark doesn’t really dig too deep into those words.

“Look, all we know is that he’s avoiding the subject and he’s a little injured,” Mark says, slowly. Jaemin opens his mouth to riposte, but Mark continues with a pressing tone, “We’ll keep an eye out. Nana, you can’t drag the answers out of him if he doesn’t want to give them. If it gets really bad, we can all talk to him, or maybe I can ask. Okay?”

“Look at Mark trying to be all leader-y and mature,” Donghyuck says with a smile. He nudges Jaemin. “He’s only doing that because he thinks he’s a big shot now that he’s graduating and leaving us kids behind.”

“I do not,” Mark argues. “I’m just saying that he seems to be only avoiding Jaemin and so me asking might be less…Well, it might be better.”

“Wait,” Jaemin glances up from his lap. “What do you mean ‘only Jaemin’? He’s answering all of you?” Donghyuck clears his throat and Mark turns back around to focus on the essay. “You can’t be serious.”

“To be honest,” Donghyuck says, “we don’t talk to him as much as you. But, um, yeah, he’s a little more verbal in his responses to us.”

Mark looks over his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Nana. We promise. For now, just wait and talk to him on Monday.”

Jaemin nods solemnly.

“By the way, your intro needs help. Good god, this is atrocious.”

*

While Jaemin nearly drops his books when he sees Jeno on Monday morning, he definitely drops his jaw. He’s not sure how else to respond when his best friend comes up to his locker with his eye slightly swollen, a plastered cut through his eyebrow, and a limp in his walk. None of it looks particularly fresh, however. Clearly, it’s a few days old. Still, they look painful and Jaemin can’t help but wince in emphatic hurt.

“What the heck happened?” Jaemin chokes out as he quickly deposits his books back into his locker to take Jeno’s face in his hands. For once, Jeno doesn’t flinch away. Instead, he leans in, almost welcoming the touch and concern. It shouldn’t warm Jaemin’s heart as much as it does, considering Jeno’s state, but it does. “You look like you got hit by a car.”

Jeno casts his gaze to the floor. “I fell out of a tree.”

Jaemin pauses. “A tree? What were you doing in a tree?”

“I went for a walk and found a baby squirrel. It fell from the tree,” he explains. “It was scared and it wasn’t injured, so I climbed to but it back. Missed a branch on the way down.”

“And you did this much damage?” Jaemin takes his hands away. “Did you break anything?”

“Couple of bruised ribs and maybe tweaked my leg, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Mom checked it out and said I was fine.”

Jaemin isn’t sure what to say. Jeno’s always been a bit clumsy, but not any clumsier than the others. Definitely nothing to this extent. There’s just been so many injuries in only a few weeks and Jaemin can’t help the worry that settles in the bottom of his stomach.

“You were really just dealing with a squirrel? Nothing else?” he asks slowly, hesitantly.

Jeno nods. “Yeah, of course.”

He hums and grabs his books once again before closing his locker. He can hear Mark’s voice in his head, telling him to ask, to clear the air. It’s odd really, whenever they’re not together it really does feel like Jeno is avoiding him. Yet, now, he’s here, meeting Jaemin at his locker as if his lack of responses weren’t an odd abnormality in their relationship.

“Look, I…” He wets his lips and takes a look around. There aren’t a lot of people in the hallway yet and his friends are no where to be seen, so he inhales deeply and says, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eyebrows pulling together in confusion, Jeno leans against the locker beside Jaemin’s. He isn’t sure if Jeno’s doing it because his leg hurts or if he’s trying to get more comfortable because he expects this conversation to go one for a while. Honestly, it could be both.

Jaemin pulls out his phone and flips to their messages. When he finds the right section, he turns it around to show Jeno. He leans in to read them. It’s hard, Jaemin discovers, to not reach over and brush Jeno’s black fringe from his eyes. It skirts across his dark eyelashes, making him blink one too many times. When he’s taken in the screen, he pulls back with a tilt of his head.

“What about it?” Jeno asks.

Jaemin turns the phone back towards himself and the words ‘I’m home sick’ stare right back at him. “You weren’t home, Jeno.”

At that, Jeno tenses.

“I went to your place after school and your dad was there. He said you weren’t home. Where were you actually?”

Jaemin is trying really hard not to sound accusatory. That’s the last thing he wants. He and Jeno don’t fight often, just a few arguments here and there. Nothing to worry about. Which is why Jaemin doesn’t want this to be the one time that things go nuclear. He’s been there when Mark and Donghyuck had a massive fight. They didn’t talk for weeks and the group was separated in order to make things as equal as possible. Jaemin doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Jeno to think he’s accusing him—even if he kind of is—and blow up at him.

“My dad,” Jeno says, carefully, “was asleep when my mom and I left. She took me to a clinic and didn’t let him know. I was home and then I left and then I came back. He’s been sick, too. He was probably just a little out of it. That’s all, Nana.”

Jaemin grips his phone. “I just…I’m worried. You’re hardly talking to me and you’re showing up injured. Is this another bear? Is it something else? Jeno, you know you can trust me, right?”

The locker clinks as Jeno straightens. He makes a point to look Jaemin directly in the eye. “I know I can trust you. I trust you more than anyone. Just don’t worry, okay? Try not to anyway. You always were a bit of a worrywart.”

Jaemin can’t help the way his lips fall into a pout and Jeno chuckles. He reaches over to press a finger to Jaemin’s bottom lip, making the boy yelp and shuffle back.

“Don’t worry,” he repeats. “Or you’ll get wrinkles on that pretty little face of yours.” He turns to head down the hall, only to look back over his shoulder with a raised brow. “Coming?”

Nodding, Jaemin pushes on his locker door, just to double check that it’s actually closed, and hurries to catch up. His bottom lip is still warm where Jeno touched it.

*

“Okay, so he said it was nothing,” Renjun says as he peels the bread off his sandwich to eat out the insides. Jaemin thinks it’s a weird habit, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s got a fair share of weird habits of his own. “I don’t know why you’re so stressed about it. He fell out a tree. He’s done that before. Heck, he broke his leg when he fell down a tiny cliff just to get to a rabbit.”

“This feels different, though,” Jaemin presses. “There’s just something about it that feels off. You can’t say you don’t feel it, too.”

“I don’t actually.” He stabs his fork through several layers of lettuce and tomato. “Jeno’s always been a bit more on the closed up side. Nothing new there.”

Jaemin sits up. “What do you mean? Jeno’s always sharing things.”

A snort escapes Renjun’s small body. When he realizes Jaemin is still staring at him, wide eyed, he clarifies, “With you, yeah. I mean, you guys have been friends since you were, like, two. It’s only natural that he talks more with you. But with us? Jeno’s not so open as you think he is. This is just average Jeno to me.”

“I never noticed,” he says weakly. “So, you think everything is fine then?”

He only gets a delicate lift of the shoulders in response because Donghyuck, Jisung, and Chenle are dropping into the seats opposite him and they’re being as loud as usual. Jisung is arguing that Chenle cheated in their game last night and Chenle is affronted his best friend would think that and Donghyuck is just telling them to shut up because he has a headache. Jaemin watches with a fond smile on his face at their antics. He tilts his head when Donghyuck puts his head on the table.

Leaning forward, Jaemin whispers, “You okay?”

“Fine,” Donghyuck grumbles into the table. “Just fucking fine.” Almost gingerly, he peeks out from behind his mop of red hair to look up at Jaemin and says, very slowly, “I need to go actually.”

“Go?” He barely has time to register everything when Donghyuck is suddenly on his feet, eyes blazing, and racing out of the cafeteria, pushing past Mark in the process.

Mark freezes, watching his friend disappear through the doors. “Is he okay? Should I—”

“I got it,” Jaemin says, suddenly. “I’ll go. I’ve eaten and you haven’t. Don’t worry, it’s just Hyuck being dramatic.”

The words don’t feel right on his tongue, but it’s the only way to get Mark to let it go and not follow after the redhead. On his way out, he nearly stumbled into Jeno. He’s carrying his lunch bag, face still cut and bruised. Still, he smiles as if it didn’t hurt one bit.

“Ah, sorry,” Jaemin blurts, dancing to the side in order to regain his balance and not fall directly into Jeno’s arms.

“Everything okay?” His gaze is searching, but Jaemin doesn’t have time to feel uncomfortable about.

“Fine! I’ll be back. Go, eat.”

He moves swiftly through the hallways, trying to figure out where Donghyuck could have run to. There aren’t a lot of places for him to hide. He thinks he knows Donghyuck well enough that he feels like he’s on the right track. Steering himself down one the corridors, he runs to the boys’ bathroom, going so fast that he nearly falls face first. It’s small, tight spaced, and beige everywhere, but that’s not the focus. Right now, the focus is very much a redheaded boy on all fours, breathing short and shallow breaths through his nose.

Jaemin collapses before him. He’s not even three feet away and he can already feel the heat radiating from Donghyuck’s trembling body. It’s suffocating. It distorts the air around them and Jaemin can already feel the sweat forming along his hairline. When Donghyuck lets out a low groan—something painful that rips from the back of his throat—and lowers his head to the floor, Jaemin notices the way the tile seems to melt under his gripping fingers.

“Where are they, Hyuck?” Jaemin demands. His voice hasn’t been this high since puberty, though he could hardly care at the moment. “Hyuck? Duckie, tell me where you put them?”

Donghyuck lifts his head, red fringe glued to his forehead with sweat. His eyes are glowing like molten lava. “B-bag. Locker. H-hurry.”

Jaemin is on his feet before he even knows what’s happening. He throws open the door to find Jeno. He doesn’t have time to explain, so he blurts out a “Watch the door” and races toward Donghyuck’s locker. There are times he prides himself in his ability to learn all his friend’s combinations. Sure, he had meant them for weird, random pranks, but clearly it came in handy other times.

“Damn it,” he breathes. His fingers struggle to grip the lock. They’re shaking and slick with sweat. Finally, after some tries, he manages to wrench the thing open. He pulls out the bag, slams the door closed, and races back to the bathroom. Jeno is still there, his face contorted with worry. He glances back at the door while Jaemin stops to dig through the bag and pull out the white bottle from the front pocket.

“What’s happening?” Jeno asks, but Jaemin shakes his head.

“Keep an eye out. Don’t let anyone in.”

Jeno catches his arm before he can go back inside. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jaemin wants to say yes. He wants to say that whatever is happening to Donghyuck is just a glitch, something that could easily go away, or perhaps be fixed. But he doesn’t know. He has no idea. He just knows that Donghyuck needs help right now. So, he releases Jeno’s grip and marches through the door.

The heat hits him immediately, causing him to recoil. Gathering himself, he continues on, hands working away at popping open the bottle. Donghyuck has collapsed on his side. Every move his fingers make cause more of the heat to rise.

“You need to breath,” Jaemin tells him, choking on the dry, hot air. “Duckie, can you talk to me? I’ve got them. I have the pills. You need to take it. Can you do that?”

“H-hurts,” comes a whimper and Jaemin’s heart squeezes.

“I know. I know it hurts. Duckie, you need to take the pill, okay? It’ll help.”

Donghyuck lets out a cry. It sends shivers down Jaemin’s spine, right to his toes.

Hurriedly, he pours out a pill into his palm and prays it won’t melt before it reaches Donghyuck’s mouth. “Okay, open. Just open your mouth, okay, Duckie? Come on.”

It’s so unbelievably hot and he has to keep swallowing to wet his throat, even after the saliva has dried. It hurts his skin. It burns and Jaemin knows that it’s so much worse for Donghyuck, so he forces himself onward.

Donghyuck is practically unresponsive. It’s slow. So painfully slow. With the little energy he has, he manages to roll onto his back, tip his head back and open his mouth. Jaemin makes quick work at it, surging forward and dropping the pill in before rushing back. He’s not sure how he knows he needs to do it, but he does and soon enough Donghyuck is crying out again. This time, his hands and arms erupt into flames. It lasts only a second or two, but it’s bright, shocking, and so scorching that Jaemin needs to throw his hands up in front of his face.

Then, the air becomes cooler. It dips below boiling and, finally, Jaemin can move to his friend’s side without worrying about being burned. He takes Donghyuck’s face in his hands. He’s as warm as the bathroom. Even more so, really. Tiredly, he rolls his eyes—now back to a normal brown—to meet Jaemin’s.

“Thanks,” he breathes and Jaemin sighs in relief.

“You,” he says, shaking his head, “are a disaster, Donghyuck Lee.”

The door to the bathroom nudges open. As soon as Jeno spots them on the floor, his eyes widen and he’s rushing to Jaemin’s side.

“You okay, Hyuck?” he asks, hesitantly.

With some help, Donghyuck sits up. “I’m fantabulous. Thanks for asking.”

“What the hell happened? It feels like a volcano was going off.” He sniffs the air. “Smells like it, too”

Donghyuck, hand pressed to the side of his head, coughs a laugh. “Thanks, bro.”

Jeno gives him a sheepish smile. “Welcome.”

“Can you stand?” Jaemin questions and Donghyuck nods.

Between Jaemin and Jeno, they get him on his feet. He sways slightly until he can finally get used to being vertical. He’s looking less disoriented now and Jaemin feels the weight on his heart lift just slightly.

“Sorry about that,” Donghyuck mutters, eyes locked on his shoes.

Jaemin bends down to grab the bottle and his bag, and hands it over. “Anytime. But don’t make a habit of it. You really need to get this checked out, Hyuck. It’s not safe.”

Donghyuck nods. “I know. I just haven’t had a chance.”

“Make a chance,” Jeno says. Jaemin glances at him and finds his friend staring at the melted finger prints in the tile flooring. “Who knows what would have happened if Nana hadn’t been quick enough. Who knows about this?” Donghyuck juts his chin to Jaemin and Jeno frowns. “Seriously? Just Nana? What about Mark?”

Shuffling on his feet, Donghyuck shakes his head. “I don’t want him to worry. He has enough on his mind right now.”

“You don’t think he’d want to know about this?”

“Oh, he probably would. And he’ll be furious at me for keeping it secret, but he has so much on his plate with the scholarship and graduation and all that. I can handle this.” Jaemin raises a brow. “I _can_. I promise. I’ll go back to the doctor. I’ll get a higher dose. I just…can’t tell Mark, yet. Not until I have control of it.”

“You better,” Jaemin says. “Or I’ll personally beat you.”

“We should probably get going.” Jeno mentions as he checks his phone for the time. “The others are going to start to worry.”

Once they were out of the bathroom, on the way back to the cafeteria, Jaemin puts a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Donghyuck gives him a wide, toothy grin. “Feel better already. Takes more than that to take me down.”

“It was a close call,” he mutters.

“Been worse,” is all Donghyuck says as they move into the bustling cafeteria to take a spot at the table. Jaemin’s mind is still on those words when Chenle starts bombarding them with questions. Jeno is quick to steer the situation in a different direction. 

Mark furrows his brow as he takes in Donghyuck’s hunched figure. He passes him a piece of pizza and says, “You’re sweating. You okay?”

“I don’t sweat, Markie,” he says in all seriousness. “I glisten.”

It’s those words that ease the tension in Jaemin’s shoulders. Still, he knows Donghyuck is doing what he does best and he hates himself for falling for it every time.

“I think we should hang out this weekend,” Renjun says.

Jeno goes to steal one of Jaemin’s fries and he slaps his friend’s hand away. They may be cold by now, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to share. “And do what?”

“Can we go to the pool again?” Jisung suggests and Mark is quick to say no.

Donghyuck hums and straightens, pizza sauce in the corner of his lips. “We could do the community center again?”

“What’s with you and doing illegal activities?” Mark whines.

“If you really had an issue with it, you wouldn’t join us,” points out Donghyuck with a smirk. He flutters his eyelashes at Mark. “I think you like the fact that I’m a bad boy.”

“I think you’re missing brain cells, is what I think.”

Jaemin bites into a fry. “Actually, the community center wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Mark hisses, “Nana,” the same time Donghyuck let’s out a whoop and punches the air.

“Think about it, Mark. We’ve done it plenty of times. We know the area and there aren’t any security guards. It’ll be a nice way to get together, relatively safely, and Hyuck gets his thrill for the night.”

“Why can’t you have normal thrills?” Mark asks Donghyuck, who’s very focused on his pizza and the trail of cheese attached to his lips. “Like going ten miles per hour over the speed limit in school areas or staying an hour out past curfew?”

Donghyuck looks at Mark as if he’s the one with the lack of brain cells. “What life are you living, Grandpa?”

“A safe one!”

“Boring.”

Jaemin sighs and looks to Jeno for help. He’s simply watching the whole thing go down with his crescent eyes and bright smile. When he looks over, Jaemin wonders why he never got the power to freeze time, just so he can keep Jeno like that a little longer. God, he’s sappy.

“Okay,” Jeno says. “I agree with Nana.”

“As expected,” Donghyuck grins. “Can always count on Flora and Fauna.”

“I’m in, too,” Chenle exclaims. “I miss the community center. Jisung?”

“I mean, yeah. I’m up for it.”

Jaemin raises a brow at Renjun and the boy nods. “Sounds good to me.”

“Out voted, Markie,” teases Donghyuck.

Mark glares at him. “When did this turn into a democracy?”

Donghyuck leans his head on Mark’s shoulder and smiles. “You’ll have fun. You know you will.”

*

It isn’t that late when they all meet up at the edge of the community center’s property. It’s dark, boxy silhouette looms over them in the fading sun of day. Jaemin’s brought blankets and Chenle and Jisung are loaded with snacks. They plan on staying for a couple hours before heading to Renjun’s house for the remainder of the night. Jeno’s hovering at Jaemin’s side, eyes flicking to the backpack he has pressed against his front. He’s asked already to take it several times and each time Jaemin’s told him no. It isn’t heavy and it’s keeping his chest warm in the cool air of the evening.

“Okay, children!” Donghyuck calls out as he marches toward them with Mark trailing behind him.

“Mark, Jeno and I are older than you,” Renjun comments.

Donghyuck doesn’t care. “Shall we go on an adventure?”

“You’re too excited for this,” grumbles Mark.

The group of them make their way across the back-parking lot. On the way, Donghyuck glances to Jaemin and he nods back. He waves his fingers, skin feeling tight and tingly. Slowly, the grass between the cracks of the lot rise. They curl toward the sky, toward the cameras on either end of the community center, and wrap around the lens.

When they make it to the ladder, Jeno goes first. He jumps and grabs the lower rung. It’s weird because normally it takes Mark and Jisung to at least give him a push in order to pull himself up, but Jeno does it with surprising ease and Donghyuck lets out a low whistle.

“Been working out?”

Jeno’s laugh is strained and a bit breathy. “Shut up before I kick you.”

Soon enough, he’s climbing to the roof. Mark and Donghyuck lift Renjun next, and once he’s fine, they wait a moment. Jeno reaches the top of the roof and pulls himself over the ledge. He waves down at them happily. He’s helping Renjun when Chenle starts to climb, quickly followed by Jisung.

“Ladies first,” Donghyuck says as he gestures to the ladder.

Jaemin raises a brow as he slides his backpack onto his shoulders. “Finally realizing I’m prettier than you?”

“I’ll spit in your food, Jaemin Na,” Donghyuck warns with a blank face.

Chuckling, Jaemin gets ready to jump. It’s taken a long time for them to get this down pat and he figures that it really shouldn’t be this easy for them to have a routine for breaking into things or climbing onto restricted roofs. Mark and Donghyuck lift him up. He grips the lower rung and starts to climb. At some point, he’s going to have to suggest doing something with a little less ascension. His arms hate it.

He can feel the ladder shudder when Mark follows after him. They only let two go at a time. Mostly because they don’t know how stable the ladder actually is. It’s rusting in odd places and doesn’t necessarily look the safest. Once he’s nearing the top, Jeno reaches toward him.

He keeps his grip tight as Jeno’s hands wind around his arms and pull. It takes a little bit, but soon enough he’s up and over the ledge. He rocks forward and Jeno catches him. His hands are tight on Jeno’s arms and, under his fingers, he can feel the way Jeno’s biceps flex. He must be working out, Jaemin thinks. Jeno’s never had that much muscle before.

“You okay?” Jeno asks.

Jaemin nods, peeling his hands away with a bit of difficulty. He’s misses the proximity and it’s hard to give it up so soon. “Brilliant. Love that climb. It gets better each time.”

The laugh he gets makes his heart pound unevenly. “I feel the same.”

“Uh, a little help?”

Jeno moves quickly to help Mark, Jisung coming to lend a hand. Once Mark is over, he rests his arms on the ledge and leans over.

“You coming?” he shouts.

Jaemin takes a peek to see Donghyuck. He’s rolling up his sleeves and getting ready to jump. He pauses mid-step and yells, “Don’t rush me, Canada!”

Rolling his eyes, Mark says, “Just get up here.”

“Whatever you say, your highness.”

Donghyuck’s climb is flawless. It’s truly unfair. It doesn’t matter how long he’s known him, Jaemin will always be amazed at Donghyuck’s—as Mark put it—parkour genius. He runs and jumps for the ladder, pulling himself up as if he weighs nothing. He’s fast, too. The ladder shudders against the wall. Mark is quick to help him over the ledge.

“Miss me, honey?” Donghyuck teases and Mark shoves him.

“Here, give me the bag and I’ll set up the blankets,” Jeno says.

Jaemin drops his backpack in the middle of the roof. Renjun and Chenle are busy opening up the snacks while Jaemin and Jeno open up the blankets. Donghyuck’s already stolen one to give to Jisung. The boy is such a thin beanpole that Jaemin isn’t surprised he’s already started shaking. They’re exposed to the chill air of early spring and, unfortunately, lower nighttime temperatures. Jaemin rolls himself into one and sits against the ledge of the roof. Jeno, in his thicker jacket, joins his side.

“Man, it’s been a while since we’ve been up here,” he comments.

Chenle, holding out a bag of chips to Jisung, says, “Not since last year, right?”

The sky is darkening quickly and Mark is digging into his own bag for flashlights just in case. It’s not like it’ll be pitch black, but they’ll certainly need them in order to see their way down the ladder. Placing the flashlights in the middle of their circle, he leans back on his hands and Donghyuck takes the opportunity to fall over, placing his head into Mark’s lap like an oversized cat. Mark stares down at him before heaving a sigh and simply letting the action go unspoken about.

“Poptart?” Renjun offers.

Jaemin snorts. “You brought poptarts?”

“I had a craving.”

With a shrug, Jaemin grabs one from the bag. He’s straightening up when a warm arm falls over his shoulders. Jeno doesn’t look at him when he turns to see what’s going on. Instead, Jeno’s arm remains loose around his neck, pulling him in just a little closer than feels necessary.

It isn’t that they haven’t been this close before. They’re a naturally touchy group. Well, with the exceptions of Mark and Renjun—although, occasionally he’s quite clingy depending on his tiredness status—and sometimes Jisung. Jeno and Jaemin are definitely not exceptions. They’ve always been close. Always linking arms, throwing arms over shoulders, and even holding hands. Of course, that was before Jaemin started having his feelings shift and felt just a little too flustered whenever Jeno touched him. He tries not to pretend things aren’t different. He makes sure he stays close, makes sure he doesn’t flinch away. Still, he knows Jeno is starting to pick up on it. And he apparently still keeps on trying to keep the skinship up.

Honestly, it shouldn’t feel weird. Donghyuck is even clinger than this and Jaemin can handle that just fine. Then again, he doesn’t often find himself thinking about Donghyuck in romantic ways. Thank god because that would be an utter disaster and utterly gross. Like crushing on his brother. Jaemin shifts uncomfortably at the thought.

“What’s up?”

Jaemin hopes that Jeno thinks the shiver that runs through him is because of the cold and not because his lips are right against Jaemin’s ear doing all kinds of things to his mind and body. He can feel Jeno’s fringe brushing against the side of his head. They’re so close.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Jaemin doesn’t think when he turns his head. He’s been taught to be a gentleman, to look people in the eye when he’s speaking to them. It’s a natural response. But he’s forgotten how close Jeno is and it startles him into silence.

The thing is, Jeno is handsome and, no matter how many times people say it, he doesn’t believe them. Jaemin’s been there when Jeno’s complained about his looks. How his nose is a little to big, his eyes a little too narrow, they way his limbs are long and thin. Jaemin’s never seen any of that. It never even occurred to him. Jeno’s always been Jeno.

The boy with the soft, black hair that sometimes gets a little too long and ends up in his eyes. The boy with the bright smile that can charm anybody into doing anything he wanted and warm the heart of any angry person. The boy with the crescent moon eyes and the melodious laugh and the stupid nose that looks so perfect on his face even if he doesn’t see it.

Jaemin has always seen that. Always seen his beauty, because Jeno is beautiful. He lets it shine from the inside out and touch anyone he comes in contact with.

Perhaps, he thinks, it’s not so weird that he likes Jeno. Anyone would like Jeno. He wouldn’t blame them at all.

He may be injured, but Jeno’s still as gorgeous as he was before all that happened.

“Nana?” His tone is soft, barely above a whisper, as he tilts his head and furrows his brow. Still, it’s enough to snap Jaemin out of his thoughts.

“S-sorry?”

Jeno smiles and Jaemin’s heart does that annoying little flip it sometimes does. “You all right? You seem out of it?”

“Oh.” He tries to pull back. He needs some space. Otherwise, he’s going to start to get ideas he shouldn’t. Unfortunately, Jeno’s arm has a strong hold on him and he can only go so far. “I’m fine. I’m just thinking.”

“You said that,” he laughs. “What are you thinking about?”

“Things?” he says, his tone lifting in a question. He’s certainly not going to tell Jeno he’s thinking about him. That would be ridiculous. Not to mention embarrassing. And treading on lines he knows he shouldn’t be crossing.

“Things?” Jeno’s taunting him. He knows that. “You’re so cute.”

Jaemin can’t say he misheard that. They’re too close. So, his cheeks immediately heat up as if he’s on fire. Jeno’s called him cute before, but not like that. Not smiling at him only inches away from his face, looking so…so _fond_.

Without thought, Jaemin’s eyes snap to Jeno’s lips.

“If you’re done whispering sweet nothings to each other, can we get this party started?” Donghyuck asks. His eyes are sparkling when he meets Jaemin’s gaze. Almost as if he’s making a promise that they’re going to talk about what happened later whether Jaemin wants to or not.

“Are we going to play something?” asks Chenle.

Jaemin pulls his legs closer as Jisung suggests, “Truth or Dare?”

“No way,” Renjun says with a shake of his head. “The last time we did that there were some questionable moments and Chenle almost died.”

“I was fine,” Chenle tells him.

“He was,” Donghyuck agrees with a flip of his hand.

“He blacked out!”

“He came to,” says Donghyuck, “eventually.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Okay, so no Truth or Dare. I don’t feel like moving anyway. What else is there?”

“Would You Rather?” Jeno puts in.

Letting out a groan, Donghyuck says, “God, I wish I brought cards or something.”

“Why don’t you come up with something then.”

“Fine.” Donghyuck sits up, crossing his legs. He tilts his head and furrows his brow in thought. “Never Have I Ever.”

“Oh, this should be fun,” Renjun mutters as he digs his hand into the bag. “What don’t we know about each other?”

“I’m sure there are secrets,” Donghyuck says. His eyes flick to Jeno, who’s suddenly very busy taking a chunk of Jaemin’s blanket and draping it over his own legs. “Who’s first?”

They all raise their hands, ready to start, when Renjun says, “Never have I ever failed an exam.”

“I hate you,” Donghyuck grumbles as he lowers a finger. Mark side-eyes him. “You know I can’t stand English.”

Jeno and Jisung both lower a finger, causing Renjun to shake his head. “You’re all terrible.”

“What exam did you fail?” Jaemin asks, nudging Jeno in the side.

“Um, math. Last year.”

Twisting around, not even caring that he was moving farther from Jeno’s warmth and the arm around his shoulder, Jaemin stared him down. “I tutored you for that math exam. How the heck did you fail? Did you get nothing out of that study session?”

“Oh, he got something out of it, but it wasn’t math,” Donghyuck snickers.

Jeno picks up Jaemin’s backpack from beside him and whips it at the laughing redhead. “Next, please!”

“Okay, okay,” Mark says as he takes the backpack from Donghyuck and sets it off to the side. Probably to make sure Donghyuck doesn’t throw it back. “Never have I ever stolen something.”

Donghyuck groans. “Why do you all hate me?”

“Because you usually win,” Jeno points out. “This is the only game we can make you lose. Don’t know why you picked it.”

“It’s better than fucking Would You Rather.”

Mark leans over to pinch Donghyuck’s leg. “Language.”

“Oh, my turn!” Chenle bounces excitedly in his spot. “Never have I ever kissed someone.”

“Gross,” Jisung mutters.

“Child,” Renjun says, his finger lowering.

Everyone knows the story of Renjun kissing a girl at his cousins wedding. He’d been giddy for days. Jaemin smiles at the memory and turns to Jeno to find him lowering a finger. This, of course, just makes him smile more because, goodness, he remembers Jeno’s first kiss.

“Why would anyone want to kiss you?” Donghyuck asks, nose wrinkling. “Who did you convince?”

Jeno purses his lips. “Don’t lie; I know you want to kiss me, Hyuckie.”

He gags. “You’re disgusting.”

“Who was it?” Chenle inquires as he leans around Renjun to look at Jeno.

“Hana Kim, third grade. We kissed under the monkey bars and she became my girlfriend,” Jeno says, quite proudly.

Not helping himself, Jaemin laughs. “Until she broke up with you three hours later when she found you holding hands with Yerim at lunch.”

Jeno’s hold on Jaemin’s shoulders tighten as he points at him, saying, “Yerim held my hand first, okay? I was just being a gentleman.”

“By cheating on your third-grade girlfriend?” Donghyuck snorts.

“No! For not making a scene. I was going to respectfully tell her to let go when Hana walked in.”

“It was like a scene from a soap opera. Hana even threw her orange juice in his face,” adds Jaemin, scooting away with a laugh when Jeno pinches him in the side.

Renjun, looking thoroughly impressed, says, “Wow, go Hana.”

“It went up my nose,” Jeno puts in, touching his fingers to the bridge of his nose as if the memory still haunts him.

“You deserved it,” Donghyuck says and Jeno glares at him.

“I was going to fix it all,” he argues.

Jaemin pats Jeno on the knee. “There, there. I’m sure your third-grade ex-girlfriend has forgiven you by now.”

“Nana,” he whines, tossing his head back so it thuds softly against the ledge. “Why am I friends with you?”

“Because you love me.”

Jeno glances at him and smiles, eyes crinkling. “Yeah, I do.”

Jaemin knows if he tenses up Jeno will feel it, so he tries to hide it. He tries to ignore the creeping blush that is surely showing on his face and probably his ears and turns to look at his knees. He’s praying that his heart beat isn’t thumping so loud that Jeno can hear it because it’s thundering in Jaemin’s ears and slamming against his chest. It shouldn’t be affecting him so much. Jeno and him have jokingly said that to each other before. It’s not a random occurrence, and yet something feels so different about it and he just can’t explain it.

He forces his eyes to look around the circle. Jisung is opening a new bag of chips for Chenle and Renjun is talking to Mark. Another one of Mark’s fingers has been lowered and everyone in the group knows why. Mark’s had a girlfriend in his freshman year. It had been the weirdest experience for all of them. The first time any of them had a serious relationship that messed with their dynamics, especially between him and Donghyuck who were practically glued at the hip.

Of course, being in a relationship, Mark spent a lot of time with his girlfriend, which left them all a little unsure of how to handle a missing member of the group. Everything just felt slightly off, tilted and disoriented. The whole thing lasted for roughly three months, ending somewhat abruptly to anyone, but Jaemin. Mostly because it was around the same time that Jaemin discovered Mark’s not so ‘just friendly’ feelings towards Donghyuck and confronted him about it. Needless to say, it hit some nerves and, perhaps, wasn’t the best conversation they had. Mark was single the next day and everything went back to normal.

So, Mark having kissed someone wasn’t all that shocking. He was bound to have kissed his girlfriend. It had been three months. That was a rather lengthy amount of time to do that and possibly more. Not that Jaemin cared to know. That was definitely a line of privacy he never wants to cross with Mark. Best friends or not.

What does shock him, however, is the side-ways glance Mark casts to Donghyuck, catching the redhead’s eye. There’s a moment. A question and then an answer. Donghyuck locks his jaw, looks away, and lowers a finger, agonizingly slow as if hoping no one would notice.

Chenle does. “Wait, who have you kissed?”

Mark shoves a handful of chips in his mouth, making it hard for Jaemin to catch his eye. He’s looking a little startled himself, though Jaemin doesn’t think it’s in the same way as the rest of the group.

“None of your fucking business,” Donghyuck snaps.

“But everyone else shared. Or, at least we know who they’ve kissed,” Chenle says with a kick of his feet. “I want to know!”

Donghyuck frowns. “Well, you don’t get to, gummy, so shut up and deal with it.”

“Someone is getting defensive,” Jeno says.

Jaemin braces himself for Donghyuck to snap again, but he doesn’t. Instead, Donghyuck stands up, brushes his shorts off—the boy is a radiator no matter what and the cold hardly bothers him like it does the rest of them—and says, “This game is stupid.”

“You suggested it,” Renjun puts in.

“Yeah, well, I’m out. I think we should go.”

“We just got here,” Jisung whines.

Donghyuck huffs and walks farther along the roof, kicking a stone on the way. It skitters across the ground and bounces off the ledge. Mark is quick to his feet to follow him. Jaemin watches as Mark catches up, taking Donghyuck by the elbow to get him to look at him. Donghyuck refuses for a while until he sighs and the two of them end up leaning against the ledge talking in low whispers.

“Wonder what that’s about,” Jeno mutters.

Jaemin shakes his head. He wonders why Donghyuck would hide something like a first kiss. Sure, Donghyuck’s never cared much about ‘firsts’. It’s not really a monumental thing to him. But he still wouldn’t resist the temptation to one up people. And he definitely would have told Jaemin.

At least, he thinks he would.

Donghyuck turns so he can grip the edge and lean backward, shaking his head and then shrugging. Mark frowns. It gets infinitely more interesting when Mark strides back to the circle to grab his bag and snatch up one of the flashlights he brought. He flicks it on and heads for the ladder.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Jaemin asks as he struggles to his feet, blanket getting in the way. “You’re leaving?”

“Yep.” Mark’s tone is tense as he starts to climb over the ledge. Jeno rushes over to take his arms, just in case Mark misses a rung.

Jaemin looks to Donghyuck for help, but the redhead’s turned away, acting as if he can’t hear anything that’s happening. Mark’s got the flashlight between his teeth as he situates himself on the ladder, shoots one last look at Donghyuck, and starts his descent.

“Maybe we should all go?” Jeno suggests, quietly. “To Renjun’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

He lets Jeno and the others collect their stuff while Jaemin watches to make sure Mark’s made it safely to the ground. Mark looks up, waves the flashlight at him, and then starts in the direction of his house.

“Mark, wait!” Jaemin calls out. He starts to climb over.

“Wait, Nana, stop.” Jeno drops the backpack to rush over and help him over. “Geez, don’t just do that. It’s not safe.”

“I need to talk to him,” he replies, hurriedly.

“I know, but you can’t do that if you slip and die. You good?”

Jaemin’s finds his footing. “Yeah, I’ll see you down there.”

It takes a minute or two, but he makes it to the ground safely and runs across the parking lot to catch up to Mark. He takes his arm and turns him towards the light.

“Mark,” he breathes, startled.

Tears are in Mark’s eyes and it’s not right. Mark doesn’t cry. He’s never cried in front of them. Ever. It feels wrong and it makes Jaemin’s heart ache because, god, what could have happened that was so bad for Mark to cry.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Mark just shakes his head, sniffing. He rubs at his eyes with his sleeve. Probably hoping that would stop the anomaly, but it doesn’t. Jaemin pulls him into a hug, allowing for Mark to bury his head into Jaemin’s shoulder. His body is shaking.

“Are you hurt?”

Mark makes a sound against his shoulder, which he assumes is a laugh. Though that seems odd given the current circumstances. He’s proven to be right, however, when Mark finally leans away. There’s a smile on his face, though it’s forced. He sniffs again and wipes under his nose with his sleeve.

“Hurt,” he scoffs. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“What do you mean?”

Shaking his head, Mark says, “Don’t worry about it, Nana. I’ll get over it. Just need some time.”

“Is it…” Jaemin starts, hesitantly, only for his voice to trail off into uncertainty. “Did it have something to do with the game?”

“Tell me this.” Mark’s eyes flick to the community center roof where everyone else is climbing down. Donghyuck’s figure is still at the top, turned away. “Do you know about Donghyuck’s first kiss?”

Jaemin frowns. “No, nothing. You do, though, don’t you?”

Mark coughs a laugh. It’s so bitter it’s physically painful. Jaemin reaches out to take his hand. It’s still trembling and the light of the flashlight keeps wiggling.

“I thought I did,” he replies quietly. “It’s stupid, really. People always talk about best friends sharing all their secrets. Guess that’s not the truth, huh? Jeno. Donghyuck. Even you and I are holding things back because we don’t want to mess anything up.” Jaemin flinches. “I’m sorry, Nana.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, don’t be sorry. You’re right. It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it?”

“I want to say no, but I’m not so sure anymore.” Mark slowly pulls his hand away. “Sorry to ruin the night. You guys should go have fun. I’m going to head home.”

“Come with us,” Jaemin says. “Please? You can hang with me tonight. And whatever is going on will blow over. It always does.”

“This one isn’t going to be as easy, Nana.” The tears have stopped. Mark is too good at hiding his sadness, Jaemin notices. “Go have fun, okay? Tell them I wasn’t feeling well. Sudden stomach ache. I’ll be fine, I promise. I just need time.”

Jaemin curls his arms around himself, the cold air chilling him even through his jacket. “If you’re sure.”

“See you, Nana.”

He watched Mark wander off down the foot path toward the road. He’s never seen Mark look so dejected. Mark’s always been the kind of person to let things brush off his shoulders. Water off a duck’s back, they say. Jaemin isn’t sure what to say or do, but he knows that Mark is hurting in ways that Jaemin’s not even sure he could help with.

When he can no longer see Mark, Jaemin spins on his heel and heads back to the group. Donghyuck is the last one to the ground, avoiding everyone’s questioning expressions as he pushes past them all and heads in the direction of Renjun’s house. They leave him be. Even Chenle doesn’t ask, even though Jaemin knows he’s dying to find out what’s going on.

Jaemin lets Donghyuck lead, hands buried in his hoodie and his eyes set on the road before them. He doesn’t look back and he certainly doesn’t join the conversation being tossed between Chenle and Renjun. He’s quiet and Jaemin isn’t sure he should ask what’s actually going on.

As soon as they enter Renjun’s house, Jeno makes a beeline for the back room that leads out onto the porch. Renjun keeps his rabbit there in a playpen built for a toddler. He can hear Jeno’s voice soften, just above a whisper, as he says hello to the animal. It’s soothing, it’s calming, and it’s all so endearing that it makes Jaemin’s heart melt.

“Wait, Jeno, don’t feed him,” Renjun says, quickly, as he shoves off his shoes and races to the back room. Jisung and Chenle follow right after.

Donghyuck’s made his way to the couch, stretching out across it and pulling his hood up so it falls over his eyes. He’s sulking. He only does that when he feels like he’s in the wrong. Mostly because Donghyuck’s never been good at apologizing or being open with actual feelings. Sure, he gets angry, frustrated, and he gets hyper like no tomorrow, but he doesn’t like talking about sadness or guilt. He likes to wallow in his own self-pity until he can drag himself out of it. In short, Donghyuck has never been good at controlling his emotions.

Jaemin wanders up to him and shoves him in the shoulder. When Donghyuck ignores him, he does it again. Donghyuck huffs through his nose and lifts his hood up to glare at him.

“You going to tell me what that was all about?” Jaemin inquires, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

“Nope,” Donghyuck replies, dropping his hood.

Frowning, Jaemin pulls on the redhead’s arm so hard that he thuds to the ground. Donghyuck struggles to his feet. “What the actual fuck, Jaemin?”

“Look, you and I both know that you’re the one that caused Mark to march off upset. I don’t care what’s going on between you to, but you have to fix it.”

Donghyuck glowers and throws out his arms. “Why is it my fault? Why can’t it be his for a change?”

“Hmm, maybe because you don’t know how to control that mouth of yours?” Jaemin shoots back. “Mark’s too much of a pushover to actually start a fight. You know he’s just going to do whatever you say. Heck, I have a solid theory that in a day or two he’s going to forgive you, because he always does, and move on with life as if it never happened. Which isn’t fair to him at all.”

“Mark’s a big boy,” Donghyuck says with a scoff. “He can handle himself. He’s just overreacting.”

“I don’t think so.” Jaemin sighs. He lowers his voice, hissing at Donghyuck, “He was crying, Hyuck. Does that sound like the Mark we know?”

There’s a beat. A moment where Donghyuck is refusing to look at him, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Jaemin isn’t sure if any of it is really getting into Donghyuck’s head, but he’s hoping it is. He knows that if he ever made Jeno cry that he’d blame himself to hell and back. It doesn’t matter if Donghyuck likes Mark the way Mark likes him, Donghyuck still cares for him—probably more than he cares for anyone else—and Jaemin likes to think that it’s enough for the whole thing to really hit home. That Donghyuck isn’t going to push the whole thing aside like he often does.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Mark’s your best friend. Are you really going to let this get in the way?”

Donghyuck’s eyes snap to him. It’s so fast, so sudden, that it shocks Jaemin. “What do you know about it?”

Fear, Jaemin notices. It’s in Donghyuck’s eyes and it’s startling. Piercing even. Jaemin furrows his brow. Slowly, he asks, “What happened between you two?”

Donghyuck visibly relaxes. God, just what was he so worried about? Was it so bad that he can’t even talk about it? He runs a hand through his hair. It stays sticking up in some places. “Nothing,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Too late,” he admits. “I am worried about it.”

“Don’t you have other things to worry about?” Donghyuck snaps. “Like Jeno? Focus on that.”

“I’m trying to, but then my other best friends decided to have a go at one another in the calmest cold war I’ve ever seen, so now I’m stuck trying to figure out what’s going on with Jeno while also trying to deal with you two and my head hurts and I’m worried and I don’t know how to handle it, so I’m trying to do the best I can, so would you please talk to Mark and get it sorted.” It all comes out in a jumble of words, leaving him breathless and stressed. He drops onto the couch, head in his hands. “I’m just trying to do what I can.”

He hears Donghyuck sigh. Then, he’s crouching down to take Jaemin’s hands from his face. “Nana, you can’t try and solve everything on your own. You’re not superman, okay? Things happen. People fight. You’re not going to be able to fix things. Whatever is going on between me and Mark,” he takes a breath, “it’ll work itself out somehow. It’s not your business and it’s not your job to fix it. Hell, it’s not even your job to figure out what’s going on with Jeno. I know you have this need to deal with everyone else’s burdens, but you don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he says. “But I need to. I need to make sure things are okay, that everyone is okay. I don’t know what else I can do if don’t.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “You’re so stubborn.”

A snort escapes Jaemin’s lips. “As if you’re not?”

“At least I can admit to that.” He heaves another sigh. “Things will work out.”

“Donghyuck, don’t let Mark come back without solving anything. He deserves more than that,” he whispers.

“I know he does.” Donghyuck let’s go of his hands and stands up, rubbing at his nose. “I’ll talk to him. After things have cooled down, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Just,” he pauses, “focus on something else. Please. Don’t get involved in this, Jaemin.”

He nods. “If you want.”

Donghyuck smiles. “Besides, like I said, you have other things to be worried about. Like the fact that Jeno is replacing you with a rabbit.”

“He is not!” Jaemin gets up and looks through the doorway to see Jeno inside the playpen, white rabbit in his arms and looking as if he’s the happiest boy alive. “Okay, maybe a little bit, but at least it’s cute.”

“Meh, you smell better,” Donghyuck says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You’re not wrong.”

The back room is cold, though still warmer than the breeze outside. Jeno’s got his legs crossed, rabbit in his lap as he rubs circles between its long ears. Renjun is busy trying to get Chenle to put down the rabbit food container.

“I already fed him,” Renjun growls as he yanks the box away.

“But he wrinkles his nose all cutely when you feed him,” Chenle says with a pout. “I just want to see the cute wrinkled nose!”

“He’s a rabbit, Lele. He wrinkles his nose a lot,” Jaemin tells him, petting his green hair and trying to defuse the situation.

He gets down on his knees and hangs over the pen’s wall. Renjun’s got it set up nicely with a little shelter and some sawdust to cover the bottom. Over the years, Jeno’s added things to the pen. Things that he claims Renjun’s rabbit, Malcolm, wanted. Like a new water bottle, a bed, some very fancy shelter that looks like it’s supposed to be part of a castle, and a few other bits and bobs. Jaemin knows that, even if Malcolm never asked for those things, he still would have spoiled the rabbit rotten.

Jeno was a sucker for animals, after all.

While the other boys head back to the living room, Jaemin watches the way Malcolm turns between Jeno’s legs, ears and nose twitching. Jeno’s watching him with a smile on his face, wide and so content. His eyes crinkle into crescents like they do whenever he’s just so filled with joy. When Malcolm paws at Jeno’s jeans, Jeno picks him up with careful hands and places him under the castle-shelter.

“You’re so good with him,” Jaemin mutters.

Jeno hums. “He makes it easy. Not all animals like to be touched or handled.”

“They all like you, though.”

“Not always. Some are more stubborn than others. Especially the wild ones.”

Jaemin nods. “Like that bear?”

That causes Jeno to laugh. “Yeah, like that bear. Never gonna live that down, huh?”

“Never,” he tells him with a grin.

It’s such a soft image, Jaemin thinks, as Jeno reaches over to pet Malcolm once more and ask if he’s going okay. His power suits him so well. Even when they were very young, Jeno loved animals. He chased cats, brought back injured animals to his house, and more. He was attracted to them. It was only fitting that when he hit sixteen, the power that manifested was one that gave him an ultimate connection to them. They spoke to him in ways Jaemin would never understand, but he sure loved watching.

“He’s so cute,” Jeno says.

“Yeah, you are.”

Jaemin blinks. The sawdust crunches as Jeno turns to raise a brow at him. There’s a smile threatening to appear on his lips. Cheeks burning hot, Jaemin sits up and ruffles his hair, trying to convince himself he definitely did _not_ say that out loud.

“Am I?”

Even though he wants to avoid any sort of eye contact—and get his blush and heart under control, my goodness—Jaemin can’t stop his eyes from snapping up. Because Jeno is like a magnet. A very strong, adorable magnet that Jaemin just can’t seem to stop being attracted to.

“I guess,” he admits. His throat is feeling unnaturally dry. He uses the last bit of courage in him to stutter out, “I mean, yeah, you are, but that’s not really a surprise, is it?”

Jeno smiles. “Nah, I’m just surprised it took you this long to figure out.”

Oh, Jaemin has definitely known for a while.

“Hey,” Jeno says, leaning toward him, “just so you know, you’re pretty cute, too.”

Well, if his face wasn’t already on fire, it sure was now.

A loud crash comes from the living room, causing them both to turn toward the sound. Donghyuck’s voice filters through the house, “I’m fine! It’s fine! Everything is fine!”

“Donghyuck Lee, I’m going to kill you!” Renjun shouts back.

“Maybe we should go help,” Jeno says.

Jaemin nods. Even though he’d rather been in the cold back room with Jeno and a smelly rabbit. Jeno stands, steps out of the pen, and holds out his hands. Jaemin lets him pull him to his feet and the two of them head into the living room.

Renjun has Donghyuck in a headlock, and Jisung and Chenle are standing up the television, which had apparently been knocked over.

“You’re lucky you have carpet,” Jeno says as he takes the remote and turns the television on. It’s still working.

“Air,” chokes Donghyuck. “Air.”

“Junnie, you can let him go,” Jaemin says. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”

With a growl, Renjun releases Donghyuck and the redhead collapses on to the floor, face slightly purple.

“How can you be so tiny, yet so murderous?” Donghyuck asks. Renjun steps forward and Donghyuck throws up his hands in protection. “Mercy!”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Pajamas, kiddos,” he tells Jisung and Chenle.

Jisung whines, “It’s not even that late, though.”

“Late enough to put on pajamas. You can still stay up, but you need to get changed. Go on.”

“Yes, _mom_ ,” Jisung says, tone dripping with sarcasm. Jaemin kicks him in the behind.

Once Jisung and Chenle come back, Donghyuck and Renjun take their turn. One in the bathroom and one Renjun’s room. Renjun’s parents have already peeked their heads in—after the television incident—and bid them all good night. Finally, when they’re back, Jaemin and Jeno take their turn.

“You take the room,” Jaemin says as they stop at Renjun’s bedroom door. “I’ll head to the bathroom.”

“Sure.”

He sets his bag on the counter and pulls out an old t-shirt and some joggers. The same ones he always wears to these kinds of sleep overs. Mostly because they’re old and he doesn’t care if they get ruined. When Donghyuck’s around, it’s hard to tell what will happen.

After he’s changed and ready, he heads back to Renjun’s room. The door isn’t closed all the way, so he gives it a push, thinking Jeno’s just waiting for him to come back. He isn’t.

“Oh my god!” Jaemin shouts, throwing his hands in front of his eyes and turning so fast that he smacks into the door frame.

“You okay?” Renjun calls up.

Jaemin whisper-yells, “Fine! We’re just fine!”

He’s not sure why he’s so freaked out. He’s seen Jeno half-naked before. Even more so when they were very young. But, damn, Donghyuck had been right. Jeno had been working out and, even at a glance, he could tell that he was fit. And there was something about that, mixed with his attraction towards Jeno, that perhaps made him just a little hyper-embarrassed about the whole thing.

“Nana.” Jeno’s voice comes from right behind him and he tenses. He feels hands on his shoulders, turning him around. “Let me see. Is your head okay?”

“Yeah,” he says. Luckily, he had his hand up at the time, but he’s sure there’ll be a nice bruise on the back of his hand come morning. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He lowers his arm and gets a full vision of Jeno’s naked torso and he lets out a squeak, hands immediately coming back up to cover his eyes. “Could you put on a shirt?”

“Oh,” Jeno looks down at himself as if he hasn’t noticed he’s walking around without one, “yeah, hold on.”

Jaemin peeks through his fingers to see Jeno rush to the bed and grab his Mario shirt. It’s at that moment that Jaemin realizes something.

“Jeno, what’s that?”

He takes note at the way Jeno’s muscles pull tight in his back as he stops mid-movement of putting on his shirt. Jaemin takes a step forward, hesitantly. He can barely take in the large bruises that litter Jeno’s back and side before Jeno breaks out of it and slips his shirt all the way on.

Those aren’t from falling out of a tree. They look like kick marks. Or punches. Maybe both.

Jaemin steps up to him and takes hold of the hem of Jeno’s shirt, determined to see those bruises again, but Jeno shoves him away.

“Stop.”

“Show me,” Jaemin demands.

Jeno crosses his arms. “It’s nothing, Nana. Let it go.”

“You didn’t fall out of a tree,” Jaemin states, tone breathy and doubting. “Someone hurt you.”

“Nana, don’t—”

He reaches out again and Jeno steps back. He frowns. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

“Because there’s nothing _to_ tell. I fell out of a tree—”

“Don’t lie to me, damn it!” Jaemin shouts. He remembers that Renjun’s parents are asleep down the hall and forces himself to take a deep breath and lower his voice. His heart is pounding in his ears. “You’re getting yourself hurt and I want to know why. Who’s doing that to you? Because you can’t have done it all by yourself.”

“No one,” Jeno argues. “There’s nothing going on, so can you just drop it?”

“No, I can’t because I know that you’re hurt and I don’t know how to help. I want to help.”

Jeno grips his hair and Jaemin’s never seen him so frustrated. “I don’t need help, Jaemin. I need you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

It feels like he’s been slapped. So much so that he rocks back from the words. Jeno’s gaze flicks to him and his features soften. Almost like instant regret. Still, Jaemin can still feel the sting.

“I’m sorry, Nana,” he whispers, lowing his hands. “You just…Please, don’t ask any more questions.”

Jaemin lets out a shaky breath. “I just need to know,” he says, slowly, “is it happening at home?” He can’t help the way his voice cracks at the end. He doesn’t want to even think that Jeno’s parents would do that to him, but he needs to know. He needs to make sure.

Jeno’s mouth opens and closes as if Jaemin’s question knocked him breathless. Then he lets out a short, incredulous laugh, “No! God, no. Why would you even think that?”

“Because you keep getting beat up and I don’t know what else to think, Jeno!”

“Did you ever think that it’s none of your business? That I’m not telling you for a reason. God, Jaemin, this isn’t anything you need to worry about, so stop. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Clearly it isn’t,” he snaps. “You are clearly not all right.”

Jeno throws up his hands. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this right now.”

“You can’t—you can’t do this right now? _You_ can’t? Jeno, how the hell do you think I feel when I see you all bruised and battered? You’re my best friend. Of course, I’m going to be worried. You can’t expect me not to be.”

“But I can expect you to listen to my wishes and stop trying to get involved where you’re not wanted,” Jeno hisses.

It’s painful, the way his heart hits particularly hard against his chest. He’s desperate for his breathing to settle, for the blood pounding in his ears to stop. Jeno’s words dig into his skin. They bury deep and unnervingly. He steps back, mouth opening and closing, searching for a response.

Not wanted.

Jaemin isn’t sure what hurts more: those words or the fact that both Donghyuck and Jeno had said something very similar within an hour of each other.

Intrusive. Nosy. Not wanted.

Yeah, perhaps he was.

Across from him, Jeno’s own breathing calms. His ears are red, like they normally get when he’s frustrated, and his eyes are wide. When Jaemin steps back again, Jeno shakes his head, dawning fluttering across his features.

“I—Nana, that’s not—I didn’t mean,” he stutters, hand reaching out, but Jaemin slips out of grasp. “I didn’t mean I don’t want you around. I just need to sort this out myself. I need you to step back and just let me do my own thing.”

“No,” Jaemin croaks. His eyes are burning and he knows that if he doesn’t get out now he’s going to start crying. “No, I get it. You’re right. I have a habit of sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. It just causes more problems.”

“Jaemin—”

“It’s fine. Let’s just drop it. You don’t want my help? Then I won’t offer it.”

The first tear slips as he spins on his heel and marches downstairs. Hurriedly, he rubs at his eyes, inhales deeply to try and steady his heart, and then steps into the room. He isn’t going to start sobbing. He doesn’t have a right. He’s the one pushing the line and, clearly, Jeno doesn’t like it. Jeno has a right to be angry at him. He does. Doesn’t mean the words don’t hurt.

Surprisingly, Chenle and Jisung are already passed out on the floor. A large green blanket is haphazardly stretched over their bodies. Renjun has claimed the couch, phone lighting his face with a faint blue light. He glances at Jaemin and says, “I guess we aren’t doing a movie.”

Jaemin coughs a laugh. It hurts. His throat feels so restricted. “That’s fine. We should probably sleep anyway.”

He nudges Jisung, who whines in his sleep and moves closer to Chenle, and lowers himself next to Donghyuck. The redhead is scrolling through his phone. Jaemin catches sight of Mark’s name before the screen goes dark. The sound of footsteps on the stairs makes his heart jump, and he turns into Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“You okay?” Donghyuck mutters.

“People keep asking me that.”

“Maybe if you were okay, people would stop.”

He hears Jeno enter the room and with a click the lights go off. There’s shuffling from the other side of their line up on the floor, near Chenle, and Jaemin assumes Jeno has collapsed there for the night.

“Want to talk about it?” asks Donghyuck, quietly.

“Not tonight,” he yawns.

He’s going to have a headache tomorrow. He can feel it already. It hardly matters, though, because what hurts the most is his heart and the way he’s screwed up everything. He curses at himself as he closes his eyes and moves closer to Donghyuck’s warmth. Somehow, he’s going to have to do something about it. Just not yet.

He falls asleep to the sound of soft breathing and Jeno’s face still imprinted behind his eyelids.

*

The next couple of weeks are draining and awkward. Despite the fact that Donghyuck promised to talk to Mark, he has yet to. This makes Mark fine to talk to on his own, but as soon as Donghyuck is anywhere close by Mark excuses himself quietly and without a second thought. It leaves Jisung and Chenle confused, Renjun a little upset, and Jaemin all around frustrated. Still, he doesn’t dig into it. He’s promised not to and he plans on keeping that promise.

At least until it starts getting completely out of hand.

Jeno, on the other hand, seems to be perfectly capable of being around the entire group. The only difference was, he’s kept a wide distance from Jaemin. He’s place himself at the end of their cafeteria table or turns himself from Jaemin whenever they all talk in the hallway. Turns out it hurts more to see Jeno actively pretending he didn’t exist.

But the worst part is that every Friday, Jeno goes missing. Come Monday he appears tired and beaten. There are always stories to explain them away, but it’s becoming more and more apparent that he isn’t getting those injures from just being accident prone. Jaemin knows he’s getting beaten, that something is dangerously wrong, especially when Jeno comes back from gym one morning and the cover-up he had wearing is wiped off around his neck, leaving visible fingerprints just under his jaw as if someone had tried to strangle him.

It made Jaemin’s stomach churn.

“He’s an idiot if he thinks people believe his stories,” Donghyuck says as he slams his locker closed. His hair’s fading now to a copper. Jaemin kind of hopes he keeps it that color.

Hugging his textbooks, Jaemin nods. He and Donghyuck have been keeping an eye on Jeno all morning. It’s Monday, which means new wounds. He’s got a particularly nice bruise along his jaw that he’s tried to cover up. Honestly, he needs to learn to put on make-up if he’s going to keep using it.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one thinking that.” They both turn to find Renjun joining them with his backpack swung over his shoulder. He crosses his arms and frowns. “Something weird is going on.”

“You think?” Donghyuck gasps, mockingly. When Renjun shots him an unimpressed look, Donghyuck says, “Jeno doesn’t want us involved. At least, that’s what he’s told Jaemin.”

“Don’t you think that we have a right to say something about it now? It’s getting a little out of hand.”

Jaemin shakes his head. “I’m not going there. He’s already told me to keep my nose out of it.”

The boys fall silent and they watch Jeno laugh at something his classmate’s said. It seems so surreal. Surely, people have been asking Jeno. Surely, his teachers have inquired about it. How is he still getting away with it all without issues?

How is he still up and wandering around with all those injures?

“He has to be in pain,” Renjun says as Jeno walks away. There’s a slight limp to it that makes Jaemin’s chest ache. “There’s no way he’s not.”

“No, he is,” Jaemin whispers. “I know he is. He’s hiding it, though. God, I hate not doing anything about it.”

“Maybe we can ask,” Renjun suggests. “Ask some questions. I don’t know. It’s worth a shot.”

Jaemin bites his lip. “Maybe.”

Donghyuck turns away from watching Jeno. “My place tonight?”

“I’m in,” says Renjun, but Jaemin shakes his head.

“Sorry, I’m helping my cousin pack. He’s moving into a new apartment.”

Throwing his arms around Jaemin and Renjun’s shoulders, Donghyuck leads them down the hall toward their classes. “No worries. Renjun and I will bond.”

“Get off me,” Renjun says, ducking out from under Donghyuck’s arm with a look of disgust.

Donghyuck looks at Jaemin with a sharp grin. “He secretly loves me. I just know it.”

If there’s one thing Jaemin appreciates about Donghyuck, it’s the fact that he’s very good at distracting people. And a distraction is very much welcome.

Jaemin’s also glad that the distractions lead into the evening. Instead of going home, he catches the bus and heads to the west side of town. It takes thirty minutes to get to his destination, and in that time, he forces himself to work on his homework and keep his thoughts as far from Jeno as possible.

Of course, it’s not an easy feat when he shows up at a small brick home. Because as soon as he steps into the house, using his spare key, he hears someone yell, “Phew, that’s some serious worry.”

A young man comes down the stairs and Jaemin can’t help but smile. He’s got short dark hair and a handsome face. It’s really unfair to look at because Jaemin knows that his cousin has never gone through an awkward phase in his life. He’s never had to deal with awkward limbs and acne. He’s just always been attractive.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man greets with a smile of his own. He’s barely at the bottom step when Jaemin launches himself at him, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Whoa, miss me that much? I wasn’t gone for that long.”

Jaemin scoffs, lets go, and shoves the older boy in the shoulder. “You were gone for three months, Jaehyun.”

“See, not that long,” he jokes. “Glad you’re here, Nana. I’m just sorting out the things in my room. Come up when you’re ready. But, uh, might want to chill your emotions. They’re a little,” he waved his hands around his head, “wow.”

“Sorry,” Jaemin mutters as Jaehyun runs back up the stairs. He kicks off his shoes, placing them with the rest, and hurries after him.

The room is filled with boxes and plastic tubs. Jaehyun’s got music filtering through his phone as he starts pulling clothes off hangers to fold into an open suitcase. It’s a mess, but Jaemin is just that there’s some rhyme or reason to it all, so he tries to not mess it up as he makes his way over to the bed. He watches as his cousin moves about, humming to the music.

They aren’t actually cousins. More honorary than anything. Their parents have been friends since childhood, which means that Jaemin and Jaehyun have known each other since they were babies. Jaehyun, now twenty and a university student, is really the only brother figure Jaemin’s has in his life. He’s the one that taught Jaemin how to ride a bike, how to cook, how to play sports. Almost four years of age difference doesn’t seem like a lot from far away, but up close it’s kind of crazy. Jaehyun has experienced so many things that Jaemin hasn’t even thought about. 

“I can feel you being nostalgic,” Jaehyun says, a smile tugging at his lips.

The only issue with having Jaehyun around is his power. It isn’t as clear-cut as Taeyong’s mind-reading, but empathy didn’t leave much wiggle room either. Jaemin has spent the majority of his life trying to defy Jaehyun’s ability, only to fall short each time. There isn’t a way to hide emotions, just like there isn’t a way to hide one’s thoughts. Sure, he’s learned to push down some feelings, but Jaehyun knows. He always knows.

“Don’t be cheeky,” Jaemin replies. “And what did I say about reading me?”

“I’ll stop reading you when you stop throwing emotions at me like it’s some kind of batting cage.” He turns, placing his hands on his hips, and says, “Now, come on. Weren’t you supposed to help me?”

Jaemin moves to the corner of the room where a box is already half-full of stationary supplies and books. He takes his time making sure all the books are snug and that none of Jaehyun’s art supplies are squished. Music fills the room as the two of them work away. Jaemin moves to the book shelf to collect all the things there and stack them inside a tub. Many of them are magazines and textbooks of architecture, which is Jaehyun’s major.

He’s good, Jaemin thinks as he glances at the walls were many of his cousin’s drawings are still pinned up. The sketches are a mix of modern and traditional buildings, including a few commercial places he’s shared with Jaemin over the years. Jaehyun’s always been enthusiastic about his career choice and he’s never once second guessed it, even as he goes into his third year.

Jaemin’s never been sure what he wants to do with his life. There are too many options for him to pick from. He knows his parents want him to pick something that’s going to being him a job quickly, but Jaemin’s also thought of going for History. He’s always been interested in that, though he knows careers in History aren’t the most sought out.

He moves to the next shelf and comes across a potted cactus. It’s looking a little brown around the edges. Glancing at Jaehyun, he says, “You’re killing it.”

“Hm?” Jaehyun turns and sees what he’s talking about. “Oh, that. I have to say, it’s been holding on for a long time.”

Shaking his head, Jaemin picks up the small pot and carries it over to the window sill. Once it’s in place, he digs his fingers into the soil. The tingling runs down his arm to his fingers and into the dirt. Before his eyes, the cactus fills out, a bright green coating the whole things. When he pulls away, he finds Jaehyun smiling at him, dimples showing.

“Kind of amazing,” he says. “Your talent, I mean.”

“It’s not really exciting. Not as cool as some,” he tells Jaehyun, going back over to the book shelf. “I’m sure there were tons of powers you saw in America. Right?”

“Well, nothing too thrilling. There was this guy, though, who could control time. It was the coolest thing,” Jaehyun says. “He used to redo his days if something bad happened. He said he started a day multiple times when this girl kept dropping coffee on him. No matter what he did, she just found a new way to do it. They’re dating now.”

Jaemin chuckles. “What a story for the grandkids.” He drops another book in the box. “How was the exchange? Did you learn anything or did you party all the time?”

“Me?” Jaehyun gasps. “Party? Absolutely not!” When Jaemin raises a brow, Jaehyun laughs. “Okay, so there were a few parties, but I did study. That’s what I was there for. It was worth it. I got to see a bunch of things I can’t here. Plus, working at the firm and being with actual architects was amazing. I’m happy to be home, though. What about you? It feels like there’s a lot going on in your life. You’re still feeling very, um, wired? No, that’s not right.” He tilts his head and closes his eyes. Jaemin tries his best to suppress his emotions, but when his cousin opens his eyes, he’s smiling. “Ah, that’s a lot right there. Do you happen to have a crush, young man?”

Feeling his face heat, Jaemin spins around to busy himself with the book shelf. “No.”

“Oh, wow. That bad, huh? I can feel your thrill from here. So, who are they?”

“No one.” When he turns, he finds Jaehyun perching himself on a tub with a grin and he knows he’s not getting out of this. “Fine. Um, Jeno? You remember him?”

“How could I not? You guys have been glued to the hip since you were in diapers.”

“Well, he…It’s not…What I mean is, it’s not really something that I’m sure about, but I just kind of think about him a lot, so…”

“You’ve got it bad,” Jaehyun says, softly. His tone isn’t mocking. It’s simply stating a fact. And it’s that tone that makes Jaemin’s heart squeeze because he’s right, but Jaemin’s been trying really hard not to focus on it. It’s too much, especially after their fight. “Oh, there’s more to the story. What’s with the sudden sorrow? Did he say something?”

“Not exactly. Um, we haven’t talked about it. I haven’t said anything. We’re having some,” he takes a breath and looks at his shoes, “issues, I guess.”

“I can feel that.”

Jaemin shrugs, not knowing what else to say. It’s not like he needs to. Jaehyun can get everything he needs from Jaemin’s emotions. All his care, his sadness, his worry. He can feel the story of what’s happened without any of the words. It’s a marvel how well Jaehyun can maneuver his powers. It’s kind of intimidating.

“Can I ask you a question?” inquires Jaemin.

“Always.”

He goes slow, trying to piece together all his thoughts, words, and feeling. It’s a whirlwind. “What would you do if you felt like someone you cared about was in trouble?”

One of the things that Jaemin’s always appreciated about Jaehyun was the fact that he never asked questions. He simply answered. Maybe it’s because he already knew what he needed because of his ability, but Jaemin also likes to think that Jaehyun’s just characteristically like that.

“It depends,” Jaehyun says. “Depends on the kind of trouble, I mean. If it was something simple, which could be fixed, like stress or something, I would try my best to be there for them. You know, do things that might make their lives easier. Now, if you’re talking about serious trouble, well, that’s a whole new ball game.” He gets up to pick up the basketball that’s been sitting on top a pile of clothes. He spins it on his finger before stopping it with both hands. “That’s when you have to ask if other help is needed.”

“Other help,” he repeats, quietly.

Jaehyun nods. “Adults. Parents. Police, even. Of course, you would want to make sure. I’m assuming, you’ve talked to this person.”

“They don’t want to tell me, but it’s serious.”

“I see.” Jaehyun tosses the ball into a box by the bed. It lands nicely, with a soft thud. “Normally, I would say to let them come to you, but I can tell it’s bothering you and I can tell that you think it’s serious. If I were in your shoes, I’d find out.”

“Like, follow them?” Jaemin suggests.

The dimples are back when Jaehyun grins. “I didn’t not tell you to do that.”

“Right.”

“Now,” Jaehyun says, clapping his hands together, “shall we pack? I have literally tonight and then I’m out of here. By the way, mom is bringing home take-out. You will be fed for your service.”

“Well, in that case, what are we waiting for?” Jaemin goes back to the book shelf before glancing back over his shoulder. “Hey, thank you.”

“Anytime, Nana. Anytime.”

*

“Hello, what can I help you with?”

Jaemin pushes past Donghyuck’s body late Thursday evening with his helmet tucked under his arm and feeling absolutely winded. His lungs feel sore from how fast he had been pedaling. He also knows his hair is a complete mess, but that changes nothing because right now he’s on a mission.

“And you’re in my house,” Donghyuck says, sarcasm rolling off his tongue as he closes the door. “Please, do come in.”

“I need your help,” blurts Jaemin. He moves to collapse on the couch and Donghyuck follows him with a curious expression. “I want to follow Jeno.”

Donghyuck’s brows shoot up behind his copper fringe. “Excuse me?”

Wetting his lips, Jaemin takes a moment for his breathing to even out a bit more before saying, “Look, I know that I have a bit habit of getting into people’s business when they don’t want me to—”

“A bit? Nana, you’re an overprotective mother and you’re neither a woman nor have children.”

“Jisung and Chenle are like my children.”

“Lord, help them.”

Jaemin hits him with the pillow sitting on the couch. “Okay, fine. They’re like my little brothers, but that feels like the same thing. The point isn’t them, though. The point is that Jeno is in trouble and he won’t talk to any of us, so I need to figure out what it is.”

“By stalking him? Geez, I never thought you’d be one of those boyfriends.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” It comes out louder than he expects and he glances around for Donghyuck’s aunt and uncle.

Donghyuck seems to have read his mind, because he says, “Relax. My aunt’s still at work and my uncle’s out grocery shopping. And Jungwoo is probably making out with Lucas in his bedroom, too into it to notice anything.”

Jaemin let’s out a breath of relief. “I’m not stalking him. Not really, anyway. I just figure we could casually go in the same direction for a bit and check on him.”

“Stalk him,” corrects Donghyuck. Jaemin can’t even throw the pillow again because Donghyuck has it on his lap now. “Don’t you think we should just wait until he tells us?”

“It’s been, like, two months. Jeno isn’t going tell us and it’s getting worse. I just want to make sure he’s okay. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. But I don’t want to invade his privacy.”

“Even if he’s getting hurt? I’m not asking for us to get involved. I just want to know what’s going on. Please, I don’t ask for much.”

Donghyuck eyes him for a moment. Then he leans back on the couch and frowns. Jaemin can’t stop his leg from bouncing as he waits eagerly for a reply. He could do this all himself, but it would be better—safer even—to have someone else with him.

“And you want me to help you?”

“I think you’re the best bet,” explains Jaemin. “I can’t ask Jisung or Chenle. Jisung has no abilities and Chenle is too young. Not to mention he can’t do subtly to save his life.” Donghyuck nods in agreement. “Renjun is good, but if something were to happen…Well, his powers aren’t offensive in any way.”

Donghyuck snorts. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“And Mark,” Jaemin continues, ignoring the way Donghyuck tenses at the name, “he could help, but I know he’d be against it. And his powers aren’t offensive, really. Not unless you’re asleep.”

“Are you expecting a fight, Nana?” Donghyuck jokes, but Jaemin’s lips tighten into a thin line. “You’re kidding me.”

He waves his hands. “I’m not expecting one, but if something really bad _is_ happening, we need to have our best chance. You’re the only one with an open offensive power.”

“A power that I can’t really control,” Donghyuck points out. “Listen, I get it. I do. This whole thing is a little odd and it feels like he’s definitely in danger, but do you really think us following him is the only option.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, wow, wasn’t expecting that fast of a reply. Okay.”

Jaemin straightens, holding Donghyuck’s gaze as he says, “Jeno needs help, whether he wants it or not. There’s something happening and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I’m going to do it, no matter what. However, I would like you there. I’d feel better if you were there.”

Donghyuck looks away. There’s moment, and then he shakes his head, the corner of his lips pulling upward. “Fine. I’ll help. Under one condition.”

“What?” he groans. He knew it was coming. Donghyuck hardly ever helped anyone unless he got something out of it. Why did he think this time would be any different?

When Donghyuck grins, wide enough for Jaemin to see all his teeth, he knows he’s going to regret asking anything of his friend. “How attached are you to your hair color?”

*

There’s only one good thing that came from Donghyuck’s impromptu hair-dying session, and that’s that the next morning Jeno actually looks at him. Full-on, stops dead in the hall, and stares. Jaemin isn’t really surprised. He should be, but he’s not because everyone’s been looking at him all morning like that, so why would Jeno be any different?

“Pink?” Jaemin had nearly screeched as soon as he looked in the mirror, hair still dripping from having washed out all the dye. It took one coat of serious bleach, toner, and another layer of dye and it’s now: “Fucking pink, Donghyuck Lee!”

Donghyuck pinched his arm. “Language,” he sneered and Jaemin just glowered at him. “You’re lucky your hair was already a light brown. Going from black is a bitch. But, hey, you look cute.”

“My hair is pink! Why the hell would you think this was okay?”

“Because you look damn good. Go on, stare at yourself. I’m not going to judge. Just don’t make out with the mirror. I support all relationships, except that. That’s a little too weird for my liking.”

Needless to say, Jaemin went home with pink hair and the need to strangle Donghyuck. Not that he was going to. He needed him. Luckily, the pink wouldn’t stay long and he could dye it back as soon as he could. For now, though, he was going to have to deal with people staring at him all the time.

It had been a shock to him come morning. Even his parents weren’t sure how to take it.

He digresses.

Jeno, still in the middle of the hall, blinks. He’s not new to strange hair colors. Chenle’s had a few—heck, his hair is still mint green because he loves it so much—and Donghyuck’s sported a few non-natural colors over the years. The difference is, Jaemin hasn’t. Jaemin’s always played it safe. He’s lightened his hair a few times, bringing it to a light brown, but he’s never outright bleached or dyed his hair. Jeno’s just not used to that.

“Take a picture,” Jaemin says as he closes his locker with a click.

That’s when Jeno snaps out of it. “Looks good.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

He should be happy. He should be thrilled. This is the first time in weeks that Jeno’s spoken to him, acted as if he existed. But there’s a heaviness on his heart that he can’t quite displace and he’s still upset even though he knows that he shouldn’t have a right to be.

Especially since he’s going to be following Jeno fairly soon.

“What’s up, peasants?” Donghyuck shouts as he swings an arm over Jaemin’s shoulders. Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung are right behind him. They cast curious glances between Jaemin and Jeno, as if assessing whether or not they’re friends again. There must still be a slight tension in the air because no one says anything about it and, instead, try to distract from it.

Jaemin smiles at them. “Hey.”

Chenle takes the chance to jump over to his other side and grip his arm. “Morning, Nana. I love your hair. It looks really nice.”

“It looks like cotton candy,” Jisung comments, seemingly enraptured by the color. It’s still ridiculously bright. “Like the cotton candy ice cream, you get sometimes.”

“It’s always ice cream with you,” Renjun says and Jisung shrugs.

“What made you do it?” asks Chenle, curiously.

Jaemin narrows his eyes, sliding his gaze to Donghyuck. Of course, Donghyuck isn’t intimidated at all and simply beams at him as if he could do no wrong and had done no wrong. Oh, boy, is he wrong.

“Donghyuck tricked me.”

Sliding his arm off Jaemin, he says, “Whoa, I tricked no one. You said I could dye it.”

“Not pink!”

“Oh, please,” Donghyuck scoffs. “It’s a good color. And you rock it. Don’t you think, Jeno?”

Jeno, who’s been quiet for a bit, startles as everyone turns to look at him. Donghyuck is gazing at him like he’s challenging Jeno to say something against it. Chenle grips Jaemin’s arm harder. He’s never liked conflict, and Jaemin knows that Chenle hates the fact that everyone is tense and living in avoidance right now.

Jaemin is simply waiting for Jeno to say something else because he half expects him to walk away. He’s already said his piece before everyone else. Why stick around now? To his surprise, though, that’s not what happens.

Clearing his throat, Jeno mutters, “Uh, yeah.” Jaemin catches his gaze and Jeno glances away. “It looks cute.”

Jaemin tries to ignore the fluttering in his chest. He really does, but it’s so damn hard when Jeno is right there, looking absolutely adorable, despite all the bruises and the crap that he’s been hiding. Face warm, Jaemin nods, unsure of what to say to that, and spins on his heel to head to walk in the other direction.

“Where are you going?” Renjun calls.

“Class!” Jaemin shouts back, but he doesn’t turn. He can’t turn. Because if he does, he’ll catch sight of Jeno again and then he’ll be upset again and why is everything so complicated?

He spends all morning, forcing himself to focus on his school work. He’s got no time to deal with anything else, especially when Mr. Kim starts handing out a pop-quiz in second period. When lunch comes along, everything seems normal—or, well, as normal as it’s been for the past few weeks. Jeno sits at one end of the table and Jaemin at the other. Donghyuck keeps checking over his shoulder while flipping his phone and passing snarky comments here and there. He’s trying to be discreet, to see if Mark will wander into the cafeteria, but he doesn’t because Mark has been living in the gym for days on end working on his basketball. And also avoiding Donghyuck.

It’s a mess, and Jaemin is aware, but he’s hoping that it’ll work itself out sooner or later. Step one: figure out what’s going on with Jeno.

“Another family thing?” Donghyuck asks as Jeno tells them once again he can’t hang out with them tonight. Fridays are becoming notorious “family nights” for Jeno.

Chenle stuck out his lower lip, pouting. “Why do you not like us anymore?”

Jeno’s head shoots up from where it’s lowered over his bowl of pasta. “What? I like you guys.” His eyes flick over each of them, stuttering a half second more on Jaemin. “It’s just something I can’t get out of. I hang out with you guys all the other times.”

Still pouting like he’s twelve and not fifteen, Chenle leans back in his seat with his arms crossed, muttering under his breath in Mandarin. Renjun easily replies and pats his head awkwardly.

“You ever going to tell us what you’re doing at these so-called ‘family things’?” Jisung inquires.

Jeno’s face scrunches up and he goes back to his food. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, and then, “Just my parents trying to bond with me, I guess. It’s not anything extravagant.” Suddenly, he stands, and picks up his tray. “I have to get to class.”

The limp in his walk has lessened, Jaemin realizes, as Jeno tosses his tray with all the others. Jeno’s always had a habit of slouching. However, over the past few days it’s gotten worse. His tall body is slouched over so much that Jaemin wonders if he does it for a reason. As if he’s injured so much that he physically can’t unfurl his body without it hurting. Hands deep in his pockets, Jeno leaves the cafeteria and Jaemin feels every muscle in his body screaming at him to run after him.

“Tonight?” Donghyuck asks once lunch is over and they’re making their way to their lockers. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jaemin nods. “Absolutely. Meet me at the east hall bathroom after final bell. We’ll go from there. You brought your bike today?”

“Yeah, I always do.”

“Good. Okay. Let’s do this.”

By the last bell, however, Jaemin isn’t so sure he wants to do this. His stomach is aching and he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, desperate to move, to do something. Donghyuck finds him by the bathroom, peeking around the corner to Jeno’s locker. Jeno still hasn’t arrived and Jaemin’s hoping he hasn’t either missed him or that Jeno’s not coming by at all.

“Do you need to pee or something?” Donghyuck asks as he fiddles with his backpack, helmet tucked under his arm. It looks like they both had the same idea, grabbing their things as fast as they could once the bell rang and racing to Jeno’s locker. If they weren’t fast enough, they sure could have missed Jeno.

“No, I’m just,” he exhales sharply, “antsy. I’m antsy. I’m worried he’s not even here anymore. What if we missed him?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Renjun says Jeno’s still talking to his teacher. We have some time. So, got a plan?”

“Follow him?” Jaemin answers, meekly.

The look he receives is blank, yet so full of judgement that Jaemin’s not sure how to respond. “Jaemin Na, you’ve got to be kidding me. You have no plan?”

“I don’t even know where he goes, Hyuck. He could actually be dealing with a wild animal or in the freaking mafia, for all I know. How am I supposed to plan?” he argues. “We follow him on our bikes. Keep at least thirty feet away. And hope to whatever god there is that he doesn’t catch us.”

“Sounds foolproof.”

“Shut up.”

Jaemin looks around the corner to see Jeno at his locker. He’s carefully putting his books into his bag, before zipping it up, closing his locker tightly, and heading toward the front of the school. Jaemin lets him get to the door before they put on their helmets and rush after him.

“You know,” Donghyuck says as they unlock their bikes. Jeno is at the bus stop on the edge of school property. “I’m the one that’s supposed to have the stupid ideas.”

“Yeah, well, time for you to share,” says Jaemin. He climbs onto his bike, makes sure Donghyuck is ready, and kicks the stand up.

Jeno’s already getting on the bus when they make it to the sidewalk. It’s going nowhere near Jeno’s street, so something is already amiss. Jaemin and Donghyuck bike after the bus for several streets and several turns until it comes to a stop downtown. It’s a street Jaemin has only ever been on while in his parent’s car. They’ve never stopped or walked around the area, so it feels miss placed and unfamiliar.

Donghyuck frowns, braking as they stop around the corner of the bus stop. Jeno’s out and moving down the street on foot. Jaemin’s not sure how they’re going to stay far enough away on their bikes and not get Jeno’s attention, but he’s willing to try.

“Lock our bikes up here,” Jaemin says.

“Here?” Donghyuck glances around while Jaemin takes his bike lock from his bag and hooks it through the wheel before looping it around a pipe that extends out from one of the stores under the front window. “Dude, if my back wheel is stolen, I’m blaming you and I expect payment.”

“If that happens, I’ll buy you a new wheel,” promises Jaemin, clipping his helmet to the strap of his backpack. Once he’s done, he moves to look for Jeno. He’s still in sight, but he’s a distance away and Jaemin worries that if they don’t hurry up, they’ll lose him. “Come on. Let’s go.”

It doesn’t matter how far away they stay because Jaemin knows that if Jeno turns around, he’ll spot them right away. But right now, Jeno is so absorbed in where he’s going and what music he’s listening to that he’s not going to do that any time soon. Jaemin’s heart is thundering in his chest as they move into a more industrial part of the city. They pass a construction site where they’re trying to build up new apartments.

“Wait,” Donghyuck grabbed his arm, “is that what I think it is?”

In the distance, Jaemin could practically see the borderline. Of course, the line wasn’t actually there. It just seemed apparent because up another block the neon lights start.

They halt. Jeno keeps walking.

“The Red-light District,” Jaemin breathes.

“What the fuck is he doing in the Red-light District?” Donghyuck’s voice is relatively high normally. Now it’s reached dolphin level and Jaemin relates deeply to that. “What the actual _fuck_ , Jaemin? Jaemin!”

He takes off after Jeno because his friend has now crossed the metaphorical border and if they don’t hurry up, they’ll lose him. All right, so, he’s going in an area that’s strictly off limits to him, but it’s for Jeno. And, believe it or not—sane or insane—he’d do anything for him.

Luckily, it’s still the afternoon and the sun hasn’t threatened to leave them yet. The lights aren’t as vibrant as they would be in the evenings and the streets aren’t as full. Still, there are people around that watch them with intense, curious gazes. Jaemin and Donghyuck stick close to one another. A lady with a cigarette between her lips moves closer as they pass by and Donghyuck bares his teeth. She sneers and backs away.

Donghyuck’s face may be pretty, but he held a lot more intimidation in him than Jaemin did. Especially now that he had pink hair. Nothing really scary about that.

“Don’t do that,” Jaemin warns. “For all we know, you’ll start a fight or something. Come on, Jeno’s up there.”

“If I get herpes, I’m going to kill you.”

“How the hell are you going to get herpes? It’s a sexual transmitted disease. You don’t get it by simply _looking_ at people,” says Jaemin, almost cynically.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “That’s what they want you to think.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I have higher grades than you!”

“Still an idiot. Now, hurry up!”

They move quickly through the streets, keeping Jeno at a distance, but in sight. Finally, Jeno turns toward, what looks to be, a club entrance. It’s not sparkly or interesting. The grey walls are dirty and grimy and the door is an awful green. Above the bouncer is a sign that reads ‘Black Pearl’. There’s already a line-up of about twenty people, waiting to get in. Donghyuck and Jaemin share a look and join the line as Jeno moves right up to the front, says something to the bouncer, and disappears into the building.

“Don’t tell me he’s some sort of stripper,” Donghyuck says, wrinkling his nose.

Jaemin’s stomach is dropping again. “Strippers don’t get beaten.”

“Maybe he’s a special kind of stripper. If you know what I mean.”

Whacking Donghyuck upside the head—who yelped like a kicked puppy—Jaemin glares and says, “That’s not Jeno. You know that.”

“I don’t know anything anymore. He’s in the Red-light District and he’s gone into some dodgy club. For all we know he’s secretly a prostitute for sadists. I don’t like thinking that, but, come on, Nana. I’m a little out of ideas.”

“I knew I should have brought Mark,” Jaemin huffs.

Donghyuck frowns. “Wow, harsh. Besides, you and I both know that Mark would have fainted by now. He’s a wuss.”

As they shuffle up the line, Jaemin says, “And, yet, you’re the one who won’t talk to him. Which, by the way, you said you would do.”

“And I will,” pressed Donghyuck. “As soon as I know it’s safe to. He’s avoiding me.”

“Does he have a good reason to?”

Donghyuck wets his lips, eyes flicking to the front of the line as if he can’t stand to look at Jaemin when he says, “Yeah. I guess.”

“You’re both hopeless. I hope you know that.”

“It’ll work out. It always does.”

While the words are optimistic, Donghyuck does _not_ look like he believes those words. It’s worrying, but Jaemin promised not to get involved, so he keeps his lips sealed. They move up a little farther when Donghyuck turns to him again.

“How are we getting in? We’re underage,” he points out.

Jaemin knows that. His brain is already mulling it over as the question is asked. He’s hoping he can figure that out once he’s at the front. There had to be a way that Jeno got in.

The people in line don’t look like they’re clubbing, he notices. They’re not dressed in shiny outfits, short skirts or mesh shirts. They’re fairly average actually. A lot of them are men as well. Jaemin’s brows crease together as they get closer to the door and more people seem to be joining the line.

It isn’t until they’re at the door that Jaemin comes to the full conclusion that he is completely and totally in over his head. The bouncer is large, bulky, and staring down at them like a bull ready to rush at them. Donghyuck sticks to Jaemin’s side, waiting. He’s not going to be much help then.

“Um, hi,” Jaemin manages and the bouncer raises a brow. “My friend is in there. I just want to see him.”

“Aren’t you a little young for this side of town?” the man asks, gruffly.

He tries so hard not to back away. He needs into that building. “Can I pay to get in?”

“Listen, kid, go home. Go do homework or something. We don’t run an afterschool club here.”

“I can pay,” Jaemin insists. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hundred. Donghyuck gawks. “I just want to see my friend. He went in earlier. I just want to talk to him and then I’ll leave.”

The bouncer holds out his hand and Jaemin places the bill down on his palm. “Payment for the club is placing a bet.”

“A bet?” asks Donghyuck. “On what?”

“Blue or green.”

“Oh, blue or green. Of course,” Donghyuck says sarcastically, turning to Jaemin with his eyebrows raised to his hairline. “What the hell?” he mouths.

Jaemin ignores him. “Green then.”

The bouncer snorts. “You sure? The kid doesn’t always have the best luck.”

Jaemin isn’t sure of anything at the moment, except getting into the club, so he nods and the bouncer slips the bill into a bag on his side. It was something he never noticed at first. There, on either hip, is a bag. One has a blue tie and the other a green. The bounder reaches out and Jaemin flinches, but all the man does is push on the door.

“Oh, thank you,” he mutters. He takes Donghyuck’s hand and rushes inside before the bouncer can say anything else.

“Do you get a really sketchy feeling from this place? Because I know I do,” says Donghyuck. “This looks like the opening to a murder scene. And that guy just let in minors! He didn’t even ask for ID. Not that he needs to. We look like high schoolers. I’m going to look like I’m sixteen for the rest of my life.”

“Shut up, Hyuck.”

The thing is, Donghyuck’s not wrong. The entrance to the place is a cement staircase with terrible lighting, which leads down to some kind of basement. Jaemin can hear the music trembling through the walls and it’s a miracle they couldn’t hear it from outside. There are people, too. Lots of them by the sounds of it.

They make their way down step by step, having to pick up the pace when the bouncer lets in more people. Once they hit the bottom step, Jaemin feels like he’s stopped breathing.

It’s a wide room with a high ceiling. Thick, grey stone walls surround them and Jaemin thinks that his basement analogy is spot on because that’s exactly what it feels like. A very large, very industrial basement. It’s hot, sweltering even, and it’s not because Donghyuck is pressed against his side. There are so many people that the room feels like a sauna. Harsh lights cast everyone and everything in an eerie yellow glow. There’s a bar and people are drinking and the music is loud and there are people screaming. It’s all a little much.

The thing that catches his attention, however, is what’s in the middle of the room. Sure, there’s a dance floor, and there’s a bar, and there’s even booths along one side where several couples are getting it on in various ways Jaemin never wanted to imagine, but the one thing that stands out amongst all that is the wrestling ring in the center.

The platform is elevated with bright red, flexible rope that border it. The foam padding and canvas cover seems a little rough around the edges, but otherwise seems decently put together. Jaemin knows, as soon as he sees it, and everything clicks.

“Street fighting,” Jaemin breathes. He grabs Donghyuck’s arm, nails digging into his thin jacket. “Hyuck, it’s underground fighting.”

“Fucking hell.”

Jaemin can’t believe it himself. All of his words are swallowed up by the sure shock of it all. Slowly, they make their way farther into the room, closer to the ring. There are already two men inside. Both don’t appear too good by the looks of it. Jaemin flinches as one of them lands a punch and blood is spat out onto the canvas floor.

“You don’t think Jeno…” Donghyuck’s question trails off, however. Either because he’s distracted by the way one of the men tackles the other to the ground, lands another punch, and holds him down until the count is over, or because the realization is so clearly obvious.

The referee blows his whistle. The majority of the crowd cheers while a few on the other side of the ring boo. As the fighters move off stage—the loser having been dragged off—Jaemin notices the color of their wristbands. The winner is wearing a red and the loser yellow.

Blue or Green.

They bet on who’s going to win the fight. 

If it’s possible, the crowd gets even louder when a man, wearing a white sequined suit that glitters in the awful lighting, steps into the middle of the ring. He’s relatively small and, wow, is he pretty. Jaemin’s almost envious. He takes in the man’s black hair and kohl-lined eyes. Every movement is calculated and dripping of confidence that Jaemin knows he’ll never possess.

The man grabs the microphone that’s swinging on a cord above the ring and smiles. The crowd erupt into a wave of cheers. Jaemin looks around startled. People are holding various drinks, their bodies squished together so close that Jaemin’s not sure if it’s his sweat along his arm or someone else’s.

“Wasn’t that a fight?” the man calls out to the crowd, who answers back in muddled shouts. Jaemin flinches when the girl next to him screams in his ear. “Those of you who bet on Red, wow, you’ve won yourselves a pretty penny.”

His voice is loud, a bit husky, and just a little hypnotizing. It’s not a voice Jaemin expects from someone looking like that. Still, the closer Jaemin looks at the man, the more he starts to notice the sharpness in his gaze and he’s starting to look a little less delicate than Jaemin originally thought.

“Make sure you collect your money at the bar when you’re ready, but don’t leave it too late or you won’t receive it at all. Now, you all know we love a bit of Red,” the crowd shouts again, “but what about Blue?”

If it’s possible, the people get louder. Donghyuck presses a hand to his ear, an expression of absolute detest overcoming his features.

“Give it up for your man, folks. He’s ready for a fight!”

Another man heaves himself up under the ropes. His chest is bare, his pants so tight that Jaemin can see every muscle he wishes he could unsee. On each wrist is a blue band. His fingers are individually wrapped with bandage and when he lets out a growl, hitting his fists together for the crowd, Jaemin can clearly see the blue mouthguard.

“And we’ve still got a greenie on our hands, right?” the man asks with a wave of his hands. There are several boos this time and Jaemin gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “He wins some, he loses some, but he’s the fresh blood we’ve been watching for the two months. Who wants to see him try his hand? I can’t hear you!”

Jaemin is jostled into Donghyuck and when he looks up, he sucks in a breath so hard that makes him cough. Because there, slinking under the ropes of the opposite corner of the ring, is a familiar figure. Donghyuck’s hand, which had grabbed Jaemin when he fell into him, squeezes painfully.

“Jeno,” he breathes.

Shirtless and still bruised, standing as still as a statue as he stares down his opponent and ignores the negative cheers of the crowd, is Jaemin’s best friend. His green wristbands are bright against his skin. There’s no covering his wounds in this place. Jaemin can see every healing bruise, every sealed cut. It’s unnerving.

“Let’s see where the luck lies tonight, shall we?” the man yells. When he’s happy with the response, he lets the microphone go and makes his way off the ring.

“Nana, that’s Jeno,” Donghyuck says into his ear, as if Jaemin hasn’t noticed yet. “What the fuck is going on?”

Jaemin would like that answer, too.

The referee moves into place, whistle perched between his lips. Jeno’s opponent, Blue, is already bouncing on his feet, fists at the ready. Jeno isn’t moving as much. He’s got his fists up, but he’s watching more than doing and Jaemin can feel his own feet trying to go to him. Donghyuck’s holding him back.

The whistle blows and Blue is on Jeno before anyone can blink. The crowd is loud and yet Jaemin feels like everything is muffled, as if he’s drowning. Jeno’s head snaps to the side as the punch follows through and he tumbles into the ropes.

“Oh god,” he hears Donghyuck say.

Jeno spins and punches back. It lands, solidly. Jeno’s always been relatively wiry. Or, at least, he used to be. Now, his arms are much more defined, his back muscles flexing with every movement. Donghyuck had been right. Jeno has been working out, clearly. His hits sound so much stronger than he has ever landed before in the past.

The worst part is, the Jeno Jaemin knew, isn’t a fighter. He’s kind. He’s sensitive, even if he didn’t show it often, and he would never hurt a fly.

Jeno lands another punch. Blue shakes it off. Jaemin feels like he’s about to be sick.

A girl crosses in front of them, weaving through all the people and holding a long box high above her head. “Bets!” she shouts. “Place your bets!”

“We need to get him out,” Jaemin says, quickly. “We need to get him out of here, Hyuck.”

But Donghyuck isn’t listening. His attention is bouncing from person to person, his eyes widening with every second. He twists around and shakes Jaemin.

“Negates, Nana. They’re Negates.”

Jaemin snaps to the girl beside him. With her hands up in the air, it gives him the perfect opportunity. There, on her wrist, is a black zero with a slash through it. The man next to her has the same thing. And the couple next to Donghyuck. In fact, from what he can see, the majority of the people surrounding them have the tattoo. Open and free. Jaemin is used to people hiding such a mark. Negates weren’t exactly looked upon nicely in this day and age. While Jaemin couldn’t care less, others did.

“This is a Negate fight club,” Donghyuck realizes and Jaemin feels like the world is spinning.

Jeno goes down as Blue tackles him. It’s heavy and it’s hard and Jaemin can practically feel the pain to his shoulder that Jeno is surely experiencing. Jeno manages to get his arm free and hits Blue in the jaw, knocking him back. Scrambling to his feet, Jeno takes out his mouth guard and spits. Blood dribbles down the side of his mouth. He hunches a bit as his hand comes down to press at his ribs while the other struggles to put the guard back in. When he winces, Jaemin does, too. It’s excruciating to watch. Every hit is raw and bloody. There’s no protection, no safety. Jeno’s going to bruise yet again. Dark and ugly.

The wristband on Blue rides up as the man launches himself from the ropes at Jeno. It’s not completely noticeable, but now that Jaemin’s looking, he can see the edge of a black mark. Another crossed out zero.

“The opponent is a Negate, Hyuck.”

A deep voice comes from behind him. “Most of the fighters are.”

Jaemin and Donghyuck spin around and look up. Way up. The man is tall, broad, and handsome. His round eyes linger on them for a moment before he looks to the fight. Jaemin turns just as Jeno is punched in the gut. He doubles over. Blue brings his elbow down on the back of his head and Jeno drops like a weight.

“Oh god.”

It’s a miracle that Jeno is still conscious. He rolls out of the way just as Blue lunges. Blue hits the vacant canvas.

“Jeno isn’t,” Donghyuck says. “He isn’t a Negate.”

“Oh, I know,” the man says with an easy lift of his shoulders. Jaemin wonders how he’s not overheating in a black turtle neck and navy blazer. “We only let Negates or people with non-offensive powers fight. Jeno’s powers are pretty useless in a fist fight.”

“Do you own this place?”

“Yeah,” he replies before pointing to himself. “Chanyeol Park. Your friend is pretty good. A little green, but, hey, he’s learning.”

“He’s a kid!” Jaemin nearly shouts as he turns his attention back to Jeno. He’s up on his feet, dodging punches. Jaemin just wants to get him out of there.

“Kid or not, he came here begging to fight. He’s got balls.”

Jaemin’s had enough. He doesn’t care if Jeno groveled to get into that ring. Jaemin wants him out. Now.

He starts to push himself through the crowd. Donghyuck calls his name, but he ignores it. When he makes it to the front, he practically stumbles into the side of the platform. His fingers grip the canvas. Jeno’s back is to him as he throws another punch and Blue’s head snaps around. He falls into the ropes. Jaemin tries to swallow the slight pride he feels of Jeno actually lasting this long.

Hitting the floor of the platform, Jaemin shouts, “Jeno!”

Jeno whips around. His face is bruising badly, one eye slightly swollen. Blood is still at the side of his mouth, now smudged from being wiped at. His eyes fall on Jaemin and he stills.

It happens so fast. Jaemin barely has time to register what happens.

Blue calls something out to Jeno and as he turns Blue throws another punch. It hits Jeno square in the jaw and he tumbles to the floor. Blue clambers on top of him. Jeno tries to block, but Blue is faster. The last punch is strong enough for Jeno’s head to snap back against the canvas. His eyes are closed and Jaemin knows he’s been knocked out before the referee is over to check.

A lot of the crowd is cheering and it’s like thunder in his ears. Several people around him are glaring at him. He feels Donghyuck’s hands on his arms and then a wider, larger hand on his shoulder. Before he knows it, that hand is shoving him away from the ring.

He snaps out of it. “No! No, Jeno! Jeno, get up! Hyuck, we need to get him!”

Donghyuck doesn’t reply, though. He’s got a firm hold, and Chanyeol is right there, blocking his view and moving them backward. Jaemin isn’t sure where they’re going, but he knows where he wants to be and they’re taking him away from there.

He’s weak against Chanyeol as he’s shoved through a doorway, down a narrow hall, and into a small room. The lights are dim and the place smells of a mix musk and medicinal. It looks like a collaboration of a change room and break room. A sad looking cot is set up in the corner and there’s a vanity with bandage and plenty of other first aid supplies spilled out onto the surface.

Jaemin tries to leave, but Chanyeol pushes him back. It’s not rough, just a gentle nudge, but it’s still enough to send Jaemin stumbling.

“What the hell?” Donghyuck says. “Why are we here?”

“You want to see your friend? Wait here.”

Chanyeol closes the door behind him, leaving Jaemin and Donghyuck alone in the small room. Donghyuck wanders over to the vanity and picks up a roll of bandages.

“I can’t believe this,” Jaemin whispers. His legs feel like they’re about to give out, so he moves back to sit on the cot. It sinks under his weight with a creak. “Fighting. Jeno is underground fighting?”

“Boxing, really,” corrects Donghyuck. “underground boxing.” He rubs the nape of his neck. “How did this happen? Jeno? _Our_ Jeno?”

Jaemin feels nauseous again. Falling forward so his head is between his legs, he says, “Oh my god.” He can’t think of what else to say.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says. There’s the sound of something dropping on the table—probably the bandages—and suddenly the cot is sinking even farther. He feels Donghyuck’s hand on his lower back, rubbing circles. “Hey, you okay?”

Anger settles into him and he sits up to snap, “Okay? I just found out my best friend is getting his face punched in because he’s street fighting! How do you think I feel?”

Donghyuck’s hand halts, eyebrows pulling together, and he says, “Don’t take it out on me.”

Jaemin sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m just freaking out.”

“You think I’m not?”

“You don’t look like it.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “I’m good at hiding it.”

That, Jaemin thinks, is something he can’t argue.

The door opens and Chanyeol comes back in. This time, Jeno is with him, arm secured around Jeno’s waist to help him walk. He looks conscious, though still a little out of it. Jaemin and Donghyuck scramble to their feet and Chanyeol deposits Jeno on the cot. The door opens again and two other people wander in. One is the man with the white sequined suit. He’s even prettier and scarier up close, Jaemin notices. The other seems to be slightly older with dark hair and soft eyes. He heads over to the vanity to pick up the first aid kit, grabs the chair that was in the corner, and moves to the cot’s side. Jaemin watches as the man works on Jeno with quick, practiced hands.

“So, these two, huh?” the man in the sequins asks. His dark eyes study Donghyuck and Jaemin and it’s terribly uncomfortable. “He might have won if you hadn’t yelled at him.”

Jaemin flinches.

“Baekhyun, not right now,” Chanyeol says with a tired tone. “Fix him up, will you, Junmyeon?”

The man by Jeno nods. “He’ll be good to go in a half hour if he stops whining like a baby.”

Jeno moans and his voice is weak when he mutters, “You get beaten to a pulp and see how you’re feeling after.”

“Let’s let him work,” says Chanyeol and he moves over to the other man—Baekhyun. “Give the kid a break. Looks like this is as much of a shock to him as it was for Jeno.”

“No, duh,” Baekhyun hisses. “Kid stopped dead in the ring.” Jaemin instantly looks away when Baekhyun’s gaze finds his. “Word of advice, don’t shout like that at people who are in the middle of a fight. Distractions get your teeth knocked out.”

Chanyeol runs a hand over his face. “Don’t pick fights with teenagers, Baek.”

“I’m not. I’m just giving some friendly advice.”

“You’re letting a sixteen-year-old get his ass kicked,” Donghyuck snorts. “I don’t think you have a right to give friendly advice.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Chanyeol says, slowly, “we tried to kick him out. Kid’s dedicated. Forced himself in on multiple occasions. Besides, I have a hard time resisting puppy-dog eyes.”

Baekhyun scoffed. “Got that right.”

“Is any of that even legal?” Jaemin snaps.

Chanyeol raises a brow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, let Junmyeon work on him and then you’re free to take him if chooses. Stay away from the bar. That’s where you could get into trouble.”

When Chanyeol and Baekhyun are gone, Jaemin rushes to Jeno’s side. Junmyeon is working on cleaning out the cuts along Jeno’s knuckles.

“What are you going here?” Jeno asks, tone harsh. Accusatory.

Jaemin frowns. “Don’t go sounding like this is my fault. You’re fighting? What the hell, Jeno? What are you thinking?”

Jeno tries to sit up, but Junmyeon pushes him back down with a click of his tongue. The only thing Jeno can do is glare. “Me? You followed me, didn’t you? Both of you. I can’t believe you.”

“We were worried,” Jaemin argued. “The injuries were getting worse and I feared the worst and, wow, look at that. I was right! Are you insane?”

Jeno looks away, eyes locking on the ceiling. “Leave, Jaemin.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. Why are you here?”

“I told you to fucking leave me alone!”

“Hey, chill out, dude,” Donghyuck says. His tone is firm. “We’ve all been worried and you’ve been hiding this from us. We have a right to be a little pissed.”

“I don’t think you get to lecture me about hiding things, Donghyuck,” Jeno snaps. Junmyeon sighs when Jeno forces himself to sit up. He winces with every movement, but his frown stays in place. “This is neither of your businesses and I’m asking you to politely leave me the fuck alone. Got it?”

Donghyuck’s hand is on Jaemin’s arm, pulling him to stand. “You’re really going to go about it this way? Wow, I expected more from you, Jeno Lee, but I guess I shouldn’t have. Come on, Nana. He doesn’t want us here.”

Jeno is forced to lay down again. His eyes fall closed and Jaemin wants to reach out to him. To shake him into reality or to simply try to comfort his hurting body, Jaemin isn’t sure. Either way, he’s desperate to get Jeno to talk to him, though that doesn’t seem to be the way things are going to go. Jaemin swallows around the lump in his throat.

“You’re really going to push me away?” Jaemin whispers. Jeno keeps his eyes closed, though his chest rises as if he’s preparing himself for what’s next. “Is this worth getting injured over? Is it worth fighting with me over? Jeno, _please_.” He bites his lip and waits for a response he never gets. The backs of his eyes are burning, but he’s not going to cry. Not here. Instead, he takes a step back and says, “I hope whatever you’re hiding is worth it.”

He turns on his heel and marches out of the room. Donghyuck is right on his heels, silent. They force themselves through the screaming crowd, up the stairs, and outside. The sun is finally setting.

Jaemin stumbles as he reaches the sidewalk. His chest is aching, his heart pounding. It’s hard to breathe and he can taste his tears—the ones he never knew were there until they settle on his tongue when he gasped for air. Then he screams. It rattles through his body and it’s painful. God, it hurts so much.

Arms wrap around him and Jaemin nearly falls. He’s so tired.

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says in his ear. “It’s going to be okay.”

A sob tears from his throat. His face finds the crook of Donghyuck’s neck. He lets all his anger and frustration tumble from his body like a rockslide, heavy and destructive. On the street of the Red-light District, Jaemin cries until he can’t anymore.

*

The thing is, Jaemin should have seen this coming.

It’s hard because he feels like he did the right thing, but, on the other hand, he knows it shouldn’t be any of his business. And yet, Jeno expecting him to just sit around while he walks into school each week with a new set of wounds is just mental. Jaemin knows for a fact that Jeno would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.

It’s not right and everything is a mess and Jaemin doesn’t even know where to start to fix it. Or even if he wants to at all. Jeno has seemed serious when he said to stay away. Very final, very firm. Very angry. The scene replays over and over in Jaemin’s mind through the whole weekend. It’s Jeno’s words and the way he refused to look at Jaemin that hits hard. Years of friendship and this was what happened?

The worst part is, Jaemin still cares. He still likes Jeno despite everything. And he hates himself for it. Jeno clearly doesn’t want him around, but Jaemin doesn’t want to let him go. Jaemin’s never been good at holding grudges.

After Donghyuck dropped Jaemin off at his house, he headed straight for his room—ignoring his parents—and locking himself in. When he had stopped crying, so had all his thoughts. He doesn’t remember getting home. Just that he arrived, and feeling very tired. His head had been pounding.

He also doesn’t remember falling asleep. However, he knows when he’s awake, the light from the morning sun cutting through his curtains and the sounds of his parents moving downstairs. He manages a meal—one his mother brought up and left on the desk—and a couple bathroom breaks, but the rest of his time is spent on his mattress, staring at the ceiling.

Even his plants aren’t happy. They’re all wilting and browning at the tips along his window sill and across his dresser. Jaemin knows his mood is affecting them. Unfortunately, he can’t really help when he can’t help himself. So, he sends them all a pitiful glance and rolls over.

Come Sunday, he’s at least moving. Mostly because he knows he can’t afford failing grades and has to do his homework, but also because there, pinned to the wall above his desk, are several pictures that Jaemin doesn’t want to look at. So, as he sets up his textbooks, he reaches up and rips them from the wall.

Jeno and him at a fair. The group at the beach. Jeno in Renjun’s stupid sunhat, smiling with his crescent eyes and soft hair. Jaemin, Renjun, Donghyuck, and Jeno while on a school trip to the museum. Jeno with his arm around Jaemin, holding him close, both of them smiling at the camera like there’s a secret only they know.

He gathers them all together and shoves them in a drawer. It closes harder than he originally intends, but it feels good. There’s still frustration built up under his skin.

_“I told you to fucking leave me alone!”_

Jaemin drops into his chair as Jeno’s voice flits through his mind, head in his hands. Exhaustion settles around him. Jeno wants him to stay away? Then he will.

He pulls his textbook closer, pen at the ready and the wall blank, and focuses in on his math.

Come Sunday evening, Jaemin has several missed calls and texts from all his friends, sans Jeno, and he doesn’t even think to reply. He’s about to crawl into bed for an early night when he hears the front door open, someone yell something that’s too muffled through the wall, and then suddenly Jaemin’s door is opening.

Donghyuck tosses his helmet to the side and jumps into the bed right next to Jaemin.

“Get off me,” Jaemin says as he shoves Donghyuck’s shoulder. He goes to say something else, but the overwhelming heat curling off his friend gives him pause. “Hey, you okay? You’re hot.”

Donghyuck lifts his head up with a grin. “Why thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

He doesn’t even resist the urge and kicks Donghyuck in the shin. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I’m fine, _mom_ ,” Donghyuck says, rolling on his back so he’s shoulder to shoulder with Jaemin. “Got a higher dosage today. Doc says it’ll just take a bit of time for my body to register. Besides, I didn’t come about me. I came to see you because you’ve been ignoring everyone and they’re all worried.”

“Tell them not to.”

“Yeah, no. Not gonna do that. Instead, I’m going to facetime them all while I’m here.”

Jaemin sits up just as Donghyuck presses a button on his phone. “Wait—No. Donghyuck, stop!”

It’s too late. Renjun’s face is already on the screen and he looks anything but impressed. Jaemin swats Donghyuck in the shoulder, who groans, but still manages to keep a firm hold on his phone. Within seconds, Chenle and Jisung appear on the screen as well and Jaemin takes note that Mark is nowhere to be seen.

“Have you even showered?” is Renjun’s first question.

Slightly affronted, Jaemin gawks and says, “Yes, I have. What do you take me for?”

Donghyuck nods, scooching closer. He’s grinning like he’s won the lottery and Jaemin hates him. “I can vouch that he does indeed smell like he’s showered.”

“Wow, thank you,” Jaemin deadpans.

Donghyuck shrugs.

“Nana, are you okay? You’ve been quiet all weekend. I sent you puppy pictures and you didn’t even react,” Chenle pouts. If there’s anything Jaemin hates, it’s an upset Chenle. The kid is just too sweet to feel sad. “Donghyuck said you were going through something.”

Jaemin side-eyes Donghyuck, who’s discovered the threads of Jaemin’s blanket to be very interesting. Gathering up what little strength he has, he plasters on a smile and says, “I’m fine, Lele. Don’t worry. I’m just tired, is all.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Renjun states.

“First of all, I’m an amazing liar,” Jaemin counters. “Second of all, I’m not lying.”

“I don’t even know where to start with that whole thing,” says Renjun. The screen jerks as he raises a hand to fix his hair. He’s got his black bangs pinned back at the top of his head. He only does that when he’s painting. “So, I’m just going to say this: you can tell us anything. We’re here to help you.”

“Are you turning sentimental, Injunnie?” Donghyuck asks with a smug sort of smile.

Renjun frowns. “No.”

Jaemin takes the phone from Donghyuck so that he can angle it more towards his face as he says, “It’s really okay. I mean, I’ll be fine. Just having a time, you know? I’m sure we’ve all been there.”

“Is it Jeno?” Chenle asks, hesitantly.

The smile on Jaemin’s lips falters. He hopes he’s caught it fast enough so that they won’t notice. Judging by Renjun’s narrowed eyes, he didn’t. Still, he powers on because he’s Jaemin and he’s not going to make them worry anymore.

“Jeno and I are just in a rough patch. Trust me, things will get better and things will get back to normal. Promise. Cross my heart. Please, don’t worry about me.”

It takes a few more words and few more promises, but soon enough everyone is hanging up and the only people left are Jaemin and Donghyuck. They lay side by side on Jaemin’s single bed, in the silence.

Just as Jaemin’s about to drift off, Donghyuck finally says something. “Are you sure?”

Tiredly, he peeks at Donghyuck. “About what?”

“That things are going to get better?” A pause. “Jeno seemed kind of final in his decisions.”

Jaemin isn’t sure how to answer because as much as he wants to say yes, he’s not entirely sure anymore. Donghyuck is right. Jeno did seem final. In fact, he seems to have cut Jaemin out completely. Then again, it isn’t like Jaemin could do anything about. He’s already done what he can. Any more pushing and he would lose all chances with Jeno. If he has any left.

Donghyuck doesn’t press. He lays there with Jaemin for a little while before he realizes it’s getting late and he needs to return home. It doesn’t take long for Jaemin to fall asleep after the front door closes.

Monday morning, Jaemin is ready to see Jeno in the hallways, ignoring him like he seems to be doing daily. Except, it never happens. Jeno, strangely enough, is nowhere to be seen. Chenle asks after him at lunch and all of them shake their heads, taking out their phones. Jaemin doesn’t touch his. He knows Jeno won’t answer him.

Instead, he gathers up his things and heads to the gym. He can hear the thuds of the basketball and the squeaking of shoes before he’s even reached the door. Mark is the only one inside, which is odd because Jaemin’s sure he’d said he had team practice at lunch on Mondays. He watches from the door as Mark dribbles the ball up to the free-point line and does an easy toss. The ball goes in with a swish. Mark’s good at the nothing-but-net throws. Probably one of the things that made him captain. That, and his strange ability to be leader-like when he’s on the court and not awkward like he is off it.

He jogs up to grab the ball mid-bounce and when he turns, he spots Jaemin. His blond hair is pasted to his forehead, his cheeks flushed. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair and starts to dribble.

“What do you need, Jaemin?” he asks, slightly out of breath.

Jaemin sits on the bench, watching as Mark tosses the ball through the basket again. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

“Coach cancelled,” Mark says as he wipes his forehead with bottom of his jersey. “Thought I’d get some practice in anyway. But, seriously, what’s up? You look like you want to talk.”

“You look like you’re running yourself into the ground,” he replies and Mark snorts. “Please tell me you’re not avoiding Donghyuck so much that you’re avoiding all of us and forcing yourself into an early grave.”

“No,” Mark says. “I’m not. I’m giving space. Now, stop deflecting. What’s wrong with you?”

Jaemin leans forward so that he can rest his chin in his hands. “Have you heard from Jeno at all? Like, today. Or this weekend?”

Mark shakes his head. “Not recently. I did notice he wasn’t at his locker this morning, though. He’s usually there when I get to homeroom. Did something happen?”

While he feels like it would be useful to let Mark know what’s going on, he’s not so sure if he’s ready to say. It’s one thing to drag Donghyuck with him to find out what Jeno’s secretly doing on Friday evenings. It’s a whole other can of worms if he starts telling all his friends.

So, Jaemin only shakes his head back and says, “Had another fight and I haven’t heard from him since Friday.”

“Oh.” Mark glances at the basket, places the ball under his arm, and moves to take a seat beside Jaemin. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Just,” he sighs, “not really up for anything really. Talking. People. I want to go home and sleep my woes away.”

“Your _woes_? What are you? Ninety?”

Jaemin kicks his ankle to get him to stop laughing. The sound is so light, so easy, that Jaemin can’t help but smile back. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean.”

He really does, Jaemin thinks.

Mark’s turning the ball in his hands, eyes not quite seeing. From this angle, Jaemin can see how tired he is. He takes in the dark circles and slouched shoulders. Mark’s hair is getting a little long and it’s touching the tops of his ears, which means he’ll probably cut it off soon. He hates that feeling. When Mark reaches up to rub at his nose, Jaemin smiles because the slight bump in the bridge is more noticeable this close. Donghyuck broke his nose. Occasionally, Mark likes to use that as blackmail when he’s feeling particularly savage.

Mark catches him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jaemin says. “Just checking out Donghyuck’s work.”

“Donghyuck’s what?” And when Jaemin taps the bridge of his own nose, Mark scoffs. “Right. Little bugger.”

“Only when he wants to be.” He goes to turn away, but he double takes. Mark’s bicep is wrapped in bandage. “What happened to you?”

Mark raises his brows and follows Jaemin’s gaze to his arm. “Oh, uh, bullet graze.”

“Excuse me, what?”

When he reaches out, Mark nods and lets him take his arm in his hands. Jaemin’s careful not to twist it as he takes a closer look. The bandage looks fresh and there doesn’t seem to be any blood leaking through.

“Who’s…” Jaemin’s voice falls as he catches Mark’s gaze.

“Little girl’s,” he says. “From America, I think. Not the worst I’ve had, but it was close. Managed to jump before it got worse.”

Jaemin lets go and rubs at his temples. Another headache is coming. “Be careful, would you? I can only handle one friend getting injured at a time. Does Donghyuck know?”

“That I nearly got shot during a dream jump? Nah. It happened after we stopped, um, talking.” Mark rubs at his nose again, looking away. “It’s fine, though. It really wasn’t bad. I just keep the bandage on it during the day so it doesn’t rub against my uniform. Anyway, class is going to start soon and I need to hit the showers. You sure you’re good?”

Jaemin nods. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” But as Mark makes his way to the change rooms, Jaemin calls out his name. “Um, just…I have a question.”

Mark turns. Waiting.

“If—If you did something that Donghyuck didn’t want you to do, but you did it anyway because you thought it was the right choice, and you guys fought, what would you do?”

For a moment, Mark doesn’t respond. He spins the basketball between his fingers, head cocked to the side. Then, he says, “Give some space for us to calm down and then try again.” He gives Jaemin a light smile. “Just give him some time, Nana. I’m sure what you did was right. Even if it wasn’t played out in the best way.”

*

Jaemin doesn’t need to try to give Jeno time because there’s no Jeno to give time to.

The next few days roll by with no sign of Jeno at all and by Friday, Jaemin’s nerves are pulled tighter than violin strings. He can tell everyone else is worried as well. He has nothing to tell them. On Thursday, Jaemin has given up keeping his distance and calls. It goes straight to voicemail.

Something just isn’t right. It sits on Jaemin’s chest, weight heavy and unforgiving. He would never have thought Jeno would simply start ditching school altogether. It’s not like him. Then again, he thinks, none of this is like him.

It’s Friday when he starts to wonder if Jeno will be fighting again. An image of him tired, bruised, and bloody appears in his mind and Jaemin sighs, cradling his head in his hands as he works on his homework. He’s been trying to finish it for over two hours and he can’t focus anymore.

He’s about to get up and to crawl into bed, when his phone rings. He frowns at the number.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank god, Jaemin,” says Jeno’s mom. She sounds like she’s wandering, like she’s searching for something and starting to panic. Jaemin’s never heard her like that before. She’s always been very much like her son. Calm. “Please tell me you’ve seen Jeno.”

Jaemin’s frown deepens. “No, I haven’t. Why? Is everything okay?”

“He’s not there!” Her voice sounds even more panicked and broken then before. There’s a shuffle and Jeno’s dad is there to reply. “Jaemin?”

He can feel that terrible feeling he’s had all week twist in his stomach. Reaching out for his desk to keep himself standing, he says, “Yeah, Mr. Lee. What’s going on?”

“You sure you haven’t seen Jeno?” is the answer.

Jaemin shakes his head even though he knows they can’t see him. “No. Not all week. Please, what’s going on?”

There’s a sigh. “Jeno sent a message on Saturday morning saying he was staying at Mark’s for the weekend. Then he texted Monday and said he was hanging out at Renjun’s. We haven’t heard from him since and he hasn’t been home. When we talked to Mark and Renjun they both said they haven’t seen Jeno since Friday. We’re filing a missing person’s report.”

Jaemin’s legs give out. The desk rattles noisily as he lands against it and it hits against the wall. Part of him is glad his parents are out on some fancy date weekend they’ve been planning for months. His eyes aren’t focusing, but he knows he’s still holding his phone and that Jeno’s dad is talking to him, asking him questions. He tries his best to snap out of it, breath caught in his lungs. He needs to breathe, but something is pressing down on his chest again.

“Jaemin? Jaemin, are you okay? Can you hear me? Jaemin!”

He inhales shakily. “I—I’m here. Sorry. I’m here. I—He’s gone?”

“We don’t know where he is. We hoped he was with you and had simply forgotten. We’re running out of places to look.” Jeno’s mom calls out something unintelligible from the background and Jeno’s dad yells something equally as muddled back before his voice is clear in the phone again. “Listen, if you hear from him, will you call us? Please. We’re worried sick and—Please.”

“Of course,” he promises.

They say their goodbyes and Jeno’s father has already hung up before Jaemin’s even lowered his phone. He sits there, eyes locked on the wall. Jeno’s missing. No one has heard from him in days. His phone goes straight to voicemail. Bile rises in his throat and Jaemin’s up in no time, racing to the bathroom. He clutches the sides of the toilet as he empties out his stomach. His eyes are watering and his mind is everywhere.

He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t get it.

Jeno is missing.

The thought lingers in his mind as he struggles to his feet to rinse out his mouth. He finds his phone and clicks on the group chat to let them know. Everyone is quick to reply, demanding answers, but Jaemin has none. He turns off the screen and throws his phone across the room with a yell. He sags into his mattress, gripping at his hair.

He needs to calm down if he’s going to be of any use. He wonders if Jeno’s parents are going to start up a search party. Then, it hits him. He races to pick up his phone and grab a jacket. There’s probably one place they wouldn’t have looked. Jaemin’s fairly sure that they have no idea Jeno fights at a club every Friday night. It isn’t for sure if he would be there, but it’s at least an idea.

He rushes down the stairs, nearly tumbling down the last few. He throws his shoes on and swings the door open. He freezes.

Standing on his porch, gripping at the railing, is a dark figure. Jaemin immediately switches on the porch light. Jeno looks at him from under his hood.

His voice is raw and strangely soft, when he whispers, “Nana.”

He drops before Jaemin can react. The thud and groan that escapes Jeno snaps Jaemin out of it. He trips over the threshold to get to his friend, kneeling at his side.

“Oh god,” Jaemin says. “Oh god. Jeno.”

“Just Jeno,” is the reply with a slight smile, eyes squeezed shut in pain. “Not a god.”

Jaemin resists the urge to hit him. “Now is not the time for jokes. What the hell happened?”

“Hurts.”

Brushing back the hood, Jaemin sees the damage. Someone had been way too aggressive for an underground boxing match. Jaemin may not know the ins and outs of it all, but he knows a purposeful attack and this clearly is. Both of Jeno’s eyes are swollen. His lip is cut in several places. Half of his face is covered in blood, though Jaemin thinks some of it may be someone else’s. It looks like an intent to injure severely and Jaemin wants to find whoever did it and make them wish they had never been born.

But right now, Jeno needs him more than revenge, so he asks, “Can you move?”

“Barely,” Jeno grits out. There’s blood in his teeth, but it looks like they’re all there at least. Jaemin will take the small victories at this moment. “I’ll need help.”

“No, I’m going to make you get up and walk inside on your own,” he snaps. Sighing, he says, “Hold onto my shoulders.”

Jeno does as he’s told, and with great effort they both rise to their feet. Jeno almost pitches forward, but Jaemin catches him and the two of them move slowly back inside the house. Once the door is closed, Jaemin gets Jeno to hold onto the staircase banister as he races to the half-bathroom near the foyer and throws the door open. He comes back to walk Jeno inside. Jeno sits on the toilet seat, leaning against the wall, as Jaemin opens the mirror cabinet to pull out the first aid kit.

“How bad is the damage?” he asks.

Jeno groans as he tries to sit up. It’s a fail. He ends up against the wall again. A hand is pressed to his ribs and Jaemin really hopes he hasn’t broken any. Jaemin can patch up wounds, but he can’t fix broken ribs.

“Bad, I think.”

“Come on,” Jaemin says as he steps closer. “Hands up.”

Jeno blinks. “What?”

The room suddenly feels very hot. Jaemin tries to keep his tone even when he says, “I can’t deal with your injuries if you’re wearing that hoodie. So, it needs to come off. Shirt, too. Hands up.”

He tries to ignore how Jeno swallows because it’s clear this whole thing is going to be ask awkward as hell. Still, Jeno pushes himself from the wall and lifts his hands as far as he can, wincing the whole way, and lets Jaemin peal the layers off him. The sweater comes off with a bit of difficulty and Jeno lets out a sharp cry when it finally pulls over his head. Tiredly, he leans against the wall again. Jaemin’s going to need to wash that down as well. There are little blood stains and sweat marks now. Jeno’s t-shirt comes off much smoother, and it leaves Jeno completely shirtless, with all the damage on display.

Jaemin can’t help but stare. There are so many bruises—old and new—littered over Jeno’s right side that they’ve melded together into one. He can see where the blood vessels have popped along his collarbone and the marks of someone’s strong hold around Jeno’s forearms. His torso is nothing like his face, but it’s still intense and Jaemin can feel his heart break at every sight of a wound.

At the sound of Jeno’s groan, Jaemin turns to get the first aid kit. The only issue is that Jeno and Jaemin are pretty much the same height. Which means if he stands, he’s looking down too much and if he gets on the floor, he won’t reach Jeno’s face. So, he mutters a “I’ll be right back” and races to the dining room. He grabs a chair and pulls it into the tiny bathroom. It’s not an ideal situation. Jaemin’s knees are pressed against Jeno’s and the back of the chair brushes the edge of the sink. Still it’ll have to work for now.

He opens the kit on his lap, along with a wet towel, and starts grabbing the things he thinks he’ll need. He starts with Jeno’s chest. At least this way he won’t have to look into Jeno’s eyes just yet. He tries his best to go slowly as he wipes at the bruises before smoothing on the ointment. Jeno’s got his eyes closed, eyebrows twitching every time Jaemin accidently presses a little too hard.

Jaemin moves so he can reach a particularly large bruise on Jeno’s side, only to see a few butterfly bandages holding a cut together near his upper ribs. He glances at Jeno. “Why do some of these look like they’re treated?”

Forcing his eyes open, ever so slightly, Jeno says, “They’re the ones from last Friday when Junmyeon fixed me up.”

He can’t ignore the feeling that he’s missing something. Because Jeno was certainly not cut like that when he saw him on Friday. “Jeno,” he says, voice barely a whisper, “what happened?”

“It’s a long story,” he grunts.

“Well, it doesn’t look like either of us are going anywhere for a while, so fill me in.”

He doesn’t mean to press as hard as he does on the cut. He was just trying to clean up the blood. But Jeno’s hand moves so quickly, snatching at Jaemin’s. Jeno’s chest lifts in a sudden gasp before he forces out a long, shuttering exhale. Slowly, his fingers unwrap from Jaemin’s hand one at a time. Jaemin’s not a doctor. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not sure he should even be doing something like this. Jeno needs someone professional to be checking him over.

“Sorry,” Jeno whispers. “It’s okay. It was a reflex. Sorry.”

Jaemin worries his lip for a moment. “Don’t apologize. Tell me if I hurt you. I just need to get this part clean, all right? Breathe through your nose or something.” Because he doesn’t know how it works and that’s all he can come up with.

Jeno snorts. He closes his eyes again and let’s Jaemin get back to work. Before he knows it, there isn’t much else for him to do but to move up to Jeno’s collarbone and start cleaning up the blood and dirt that’s stained his skin.

Perhaps, any other day, this would be more embarrassing. It isn’t any other day, however. Jeno’s injured and there’s something very severe about the whole thing. Jaemin can feel his nerves frizzle every time his fingers brush Jeno’s skin. Still, the logical part of his mind keeps remind him that it’s serious. That Jeno needs help. Jaemin needs to help.

“I’m sorry, Nana.”

Jaemin’s hand stills. He studies the towel in his hand, refusing to look at Jeno, who he knows is staring right at him. He can feel the weighty gaze. Jeno reaches his hand up again to take Jaemin’s, this time a little more gently. The towel is cold against his fingers, but Jeno’s hand is burning and Jaemin isn’t sure what to focus on more.

Jeno’s voice is soft. It brushes against his entire being like a spring breeze and Jaemin has to stop himself from shivering. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have said any of those things to you and I certainly shouldn’t have told you to leave. I just didn’t know what else to do. I freaked.”

Wetting his lips, Jaemin glances up and he finds Jeno watching him with all kinds of emotions he’s not sure he can decipher. Although, he knows one. Sincerity. And it hits Jaemin in the heart a lot harder than he expects. He’s not sure he can find words to reply, but that’s okay because Jeno isn’t done.

“I was in the wrong,” Jeno says. “I know that if the situations were reversed, I would have done exactly what you did. Maybe even more so. I need you to know that I only said those things because I didn’t want you involved. I was trying so hard to keep you out of it.”

Jaemin’s throat is dry when he says, “I shouldn’t have followed you. I should have trusted you. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kind of glad you did.” Jeno’s hand moves gingerly. The towel drops into his lap and he laces their fingers. “I know you did it because you were worried about me. I was wrong trying to hide it all from you.”

Jaemin stares at their hands, amazed at how right it feels. “Why did you? Why was it so important to keep me away?”

“Because you have a habit of taking everyone’s burdens as your own and I didn’t want to do that to you,” Jeno admits and Jaemin finds his gaze again. “There are so many important things to worry about other than me.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, Jeno.” The words pour out before he can stop them. He pauses, lips parted in surprise at his own bluntness. Warmth finds its way to his ears and cheeks.

The corner of Jeno’s mouth curls upward. “You’re important to me, too. That’s why I didn’t want you involved. I care too much about you. Maybe a bit more than I should.”

His heart is pounding in his chest and Jaemin wants nothing more than to reach up and touch Jeno’s face, but he holds back as he says, “You…Jeno, can you tell me what happened? Please?”

If the change of conversation upsets Jeno, he doesn’t let it show. The air feels thick and warm and Jaemin isn’t sure if it’s because the A/C isn’t on or if it’s something else. Jeno let’s Jaemin pull his hand away. He switches so that his opposite hand is now in Jeno’s and his dominant is picking up the towel again. He wipes away the blood, all the way up his neck to his ears. Then he dabs along Jeno’s jaw, careful not to hurt him again.

“After the fight on Friday,” Jeno explains, “Junmyeon patched me up. I got what little money I won and left. On my way out, I ran into some people.” He shifts on the toilet seat and Jaemin halts his movements, ready to catch him should he slip. He doesn’t, so Jaemin goes back to work. “There’s this guy at the club. It’s not a secret that he’s part of a gang in the area. I’ve fought against him before. He’s good. Gave me that shiner you saw.”

Jeno’s smiling slightly, but Jaemin doesn’t find it amusing. “I’ve seen a lot of shiners on you,” he deadpans. “I’d like you without them.”

“Same,” Jeno chuckles. “Anyway, this guy, I fought him the week before and won. Probably my best win, actually. His gang, they found me leaving the club and demanded I give the money I won back to them. It was,” he grimaces as Jaemin presses the towel to the side of his eye, “really stupid. I won it fair and square. Not that they cared. I said no and, well, got the beating of a lifetime. Chanyeol found me after and Junmyeon had me on bed rest for a couple days and then I just decided to not go to school because I wasn’t sure I could get away with the wounds this time.”

“You couldn’t get away with them in the first place,” Jaemin tells him. “No one believed your stories. Or if they did, they were missing braincells. Falling out of a tree? You’re an idiot.”

“I could never lie to you, huh?”

Jaemin smirks. “I just know you too well. But that does explain why you were missing this week. Some of these look fresh.”

Jeno nods. “Chanyeol wouldn’t let me fight tonight. Said my condition was too bad and still needed to rest.”

“At least he has some sort of brain,” Jaemin hisses. “Letting minors fight. Honestly.”

“I practically threw myself into the ring, Nana. I didn’t really give him many options and I was desperate.”

“Why?” Jaemin snaps. “Why were you so desperate?”

Jeno averts his gaze and says, “About a month and a half ago, Dad lost his job. Mom’s been struggling to get shifts. We were looking at losing the house and I was frantic. I met this guy while I was looking for a job and he mentioned Chanyeol’s club. You make a lot of money, Jaemin. Especially when you win. Plus, I get a wage for being a frequent fighter. My parents don’t know I’m doing this. They think I work a part-time job in the mall and I just explain my injuries as me getting clumsy. I know they don’t believe me, but they don’t see the worst of it. Mom’s always out now, working two jobs, and dad spends his days sleeping and picking up night shifts at the factory across town. They don’t pay much.”

Jaemin tightens his hold on Jeno’s hand. It’s trembling in his. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I wanted to keep it quiet. I didn’t think my parents wanted people to know and I thought I could handle it.” Jeno’s gaze is intense, holding Jaemin in place. “I wanted to be as strong as you.”

His heart seems to break again. Jaemin hangs his head. “I’m not as strong as you think I am, Jeno. I wouldn’t be anywhere without you. Or the others. I need all of you to keep me afloat.” The tension seems to nudge at him and Jaemin can’t handle it. So, he pulls back to pick up a cold compress. Jeno waits as he snaps it, letting the coolness hit his skin. Then, he leans forward to tilt Jeno’s head back slightly and lay the compress across his eyes. “Keep that there.”

Jaemin turns so he’s kneeling on the chair to rinse out the towel. He hangs it over the edge of the sink to dry. When he’s back in his seat, he rifles through the first aid kit for more butterfly bandages and Band-Aids. With shaky fingers, he works at patching up the small cuts on Jeno’s face.

“They threatened my family,” Jeno says, suddenly. Jaemin stills, fingers brushing against Jeno’s cheekbones. “They found me tonight, on my way home, and threatened my family if I didn’t give up the money.”

“And you said no,” Jaemin guesses.

Jeno nods. He still has the compress against his eyes. “I can’t give them the money. We need that. But I also need to protect my parents. These guys aren’t playing games.” He heaves a sigh, and pulls the compress away. The swelling already seems less than before. “I made a deal with them. Another fight. I win and I keep the money and they leave my family alone. I win, I give them everything.”

Jaemin sucks in a breath. “Jeno, why?”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” he says, sharply. He’s quick to reel himself in, hand in his hair. “They can beat me all they want, but I can’t have them come after my family.”

Jaemin reaches out to take the compress away and remove Jeno’s hand from his hair. “When?”

“Next Saturday morning.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jaemin decides.

Jeno snaps up. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t need you getting hurt.”

“Please,” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “I’m stronger than I look. I can beat you all and you know it.”

“That’s not the point, Jaemin. These guys aren’t anything like us. They hurt people for a living. I’m not letting you anywhere near them.”

“You don’t have to let me do anything, Jeno. I’m going and that’s final.”

Jeno’s sitting up now, meeting Jaemin’s glare with his own. “No, you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me. You’ve already tried to keep me away and that didn’t work,” he says. “I’m not leaving you alone this time. I can’t leave you alone. Like I said, you’re too important to me. If anything happened to you that I could have stopped it, or at least helped, I would hate myself forever.”

“And you think I don’t feel the same?” Jeno questions. He takes Jaemin’s face in his hands. They’re warm on Jaemin’s cheeks. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Jaemin closes his eyes for a moment. As he opens them, he asks, quietly, “When will you learn that we’re always better together?”

Jeno scoffs, dark eyelashes fluttering as he looks to the floor and shakes his head. When his hands are falling, Jaemin catches his wrists to keep them there. Jeno looks at him, startled.

Then, he smiles, small and fond. “You’re so stubborn.”

“As if you’re not,” Jaemin whispers.

Hesitantly, he lets go of one of Jeno’s wrists so he can place his hand along Jeno’s jaw. His chest is tight, but it’s not painful. It’s expectant. And Jaemin wonders if he can do it. If he can make his want, his desire, real this time. Without ruining anything.

Jaemin finds himself taking in the small movements Jeno makes. The way his adam’s apple moves as he swallows, the way he wets his lips, parting them just slightly. Stilling his fingers against Jeno’s neck, he feels the pulse of his heart beneath his thumb. It’s strong and erratic, just like his, and it gives Jaemin just that little bit of hope he’s been looking for. Everything hits him deep and hard. It leaves an ache in his chest and Jaemin wants to kiss him. God, he wants to kiss him so badly.

So, he does.

Jeno tastes of sweat and blood. Copper burns his lips just as much as Jeno’s hands burn his skin when they move to his hair to pull him closer. There’s no fireworks, no sparks. But it’s right. It’s warm, it’s soft, and it’s home. And Jaemin doesn’t ever want to stop.

He finds himself slipping to the edge of the chair even more, ignoring the crash of the first aid kit when it tumbles from his lap and hits the floor. One of Jeno’s hands tangles into Jaemin’s hair, angling his head slightly, while the other moves to his waist. His fingers dip beneath Jaemin’s shirt and drifts along the edge of his hipbone and Jaemin sighs into the kiss because, _oh,_ that’s a nice feeling.

When Jaemin notices the copper taste a bit too much, he leans back. It’s just an inch, but it feels like miles. Jeno’s breath brushes against cheek as he moves to kiss his jaw and Jaemin’s hand finds the nape of Jeno’s neck, digging his fingers in.

Almost painfully, Jeno releases his hold in Jaemin’s hair and rests his hand in the crevice between his neck and shoulder. His eyes are dark and eyelids heavy when he finds Jaemin’s gaze. His swollen lips are bleeding, and Jaemin runs a thumb under his lower lip to clean it up as best as he can. Jeno’s tongue darts out and Jaemin smirks, but doesn’t pull his hand away.

“I’ve been waiting to do that forever,” Jeno says, voice a little rough.

Jaemin runs a hand through Jeno’s hair, watching as his eyes close and he inhales deep. “That makes two of us then. I thought I’d never get to.”

Taking Jaemin’s hand in his, Jeno places a kiss on his open palm. “I guess next time I’m going to have to be a little more obvious.”

“No next time,” Jaemin says with a shake of his head. “You’ve got me now. It’s you and me, remember? That’s never going to change.”

“I hope not.” Jeno leans in again to capture his lips once more. “I really hope not.”

It takes all of his willpower to untangle himself from Jeno, especially since he keeps whining and dragging Jaemin back and Jaemin has no control when it comes to Jeno. He’s entirely _whipped_.

They manage to clean up the first aid kit and Jaemin returns the chair to the dining room. He helps Jeno to the living room couch, not sure if he can handle the stairs just yet. Jaemin hands Jeno his cell and tells him to call his parents, to let them know he’s safe.

“Hi, mom—No, yeah, I’m fine. Everything is fine—I’m with Jaemin—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have contacted you—yeah, here,” Jeno says and he turns to hold the phone out to Jaemin, who takes it.

“Jaemin?” asks Jeno’s mom. She sounds like she’s been crying. She probably has.

“Yeah, I’m here. I have him, Mrs. Lee. He’s going to stay here for the weekend if that’s okay?”

When Jeno raises a brow, Jaemin waves him off. There’s something in the action that has Jaemin heating up in the face again. And he hadn’t even meant it that way.

“Just tell him to call again tomorrow,” says Mrs. Lee. “I want to hear from him every day. You take care of him, Jaemin.”

“I will. Promise.”

He hands the phone back and Jeno finishes off the conversation. It’s really late and Jaemin doesn’t think he can sleep. He’s a little wired now. Still, he knows Jeno should. So, he gets up and gathers the spare blankets and pillows before returning to the couch. He finds Jeno on his phone, texting someone.

“Letting the others know,” he says, without even looking up. “They’re pissed.”

“They should be. You kept them in the dark and then went missing for a week. I think they have a right to be a little ticked off.”

Jeno sighs. “Suppose so. Those for me?”

“Yep.” Jaemin sets down the pillows. “I figured you might not be able to do the stairs yet. You get the couch until you can walk on your own.”

“Then I get to stay where? Your bed?” Jeno teases.

“If you weren’t injured right now, I would smack you in the face with this pillow. I just want you to know that.”

Jeno laughs. Between the two of them, they manage to get him all set up. Jaemin, feeling a bit guilty that Jeno has to be on the couch, decides to grab his own pillow and blanket from his room, and lays himself out on the adjacent couch.

“Thank you, Nana,” Jeno says with a smile.

Jaemin finds himself smiling back. “Yeah, well, what would you do without me?”

“Suffer. So much.” There’s something in Jeno’s tone that has him stall his movements. Jeno’s not smiling anymore. “Are you sure you want to come with me on Saturday?”

“You and me,” is what he says. “You’re stuck with me, Jeno Lee.”

Jeno chuckles.

“That being said,” he says, settling under the blankets. “I think we might need more than just you and me this time—”

“I’m not involving the others,” Jeno interrupts.

“I don’t think you get much choice,” argues Jaemin. “Definitely not Jisung or Chenle. And maybe not Renjun. But if we’re going into a fight we need people who can actually do some damage.”

“You want to bring Donghyuck.”

“And Mark,” he decides. “His powers might not be great in a fight, but he’s good at controlling Donghyuck and if things go wrong, we’ll need him.”

Jeno shakes his head. “I’d rather not bring them at all if that’s the case.”

“It’s not ideal, but I really think we should. I need you to trust me. Please, Jeno. Just trust me on this.”

He’s silent and Jaemin turns on his side to look over. Jeno’s eyes are closed, his hands gripping at the blankets. Then, he says, “Fine.”

“Thank you. Now, sleep. You need it and I’m suddenly very exhausted.” He reaches behind him to turn off the lamp, plunging them into darkness.

He’s drifting when he hears Jeno’s voice again. “Goodnight, Nana. Thank you.”

“Night, Jen.”

He’s still smiling when he finally falls asleep.

*

“You know, I really do like the hair,” Jeno says as he watches Jaemin fold up the blankets the next morning.

Jaemin places the blanket on the arm of the couch and smiles. “Don’t tell Donghyuck, but I think it’s actually growing on me.”

“Won’t tell a soul.”

When Jaemin is finished cleaning up, he stands in front of Jeno with his hands out. Jeno raises a brow, but takes his hands anyway and stands up. It’s a slow process. Jeno wraps an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders to keep him upright and the two of them make their way to the stairs.

“Think you can do it?” Jaemin asks as Jeno reaches for the banister.

“I’m not an invalid, thank you very much.” He glances over his shoulder. “Just, uh, stay behind me just in case?”

Jaemin bites back a smile and nods. “Of course.”

Getting him upstairs is slower than getting him to stand, and it requires a few stops and starts for Jeno to breathe in through his nose to subside the pain. Eventually, they make it to Jaemin’s room, where he gathers up a spare set of sweats and an oversized t-shirt he’s sure will fit Jeno, and helps him into the bathroom.

“Not going to help me undress?” Jeno asks with a raised brow. Jaemin slams the door on him.

“Yell if you need me,” he says through the door.

He can hear Jeno laughing and he knows he’s red in the face again. Luckily, Jeno manages to shower on his own. Dressing, of course, was a little more difficult. Jaemin ends up having to take several deep breaths before entering the room to help and, honestly, he has a really hard time ignoring Jeno’s smirk—which never goes away even as he winces with every motion. While there’s nothing sexy about any of it, but it’s definitely embarrassing.

“So, um,” Jeno pauses, rubbing at his neck. The tips of his ears are red. “I wanted to ask you something.”

They’re in Jaemin’s room. Jeno’s on the bed, his back against the headboard and his long legs stretched out before him. Droplets of water from his shower are still dripping from the ends of his dark hair. He looks better than last night. Even though the swelling as gone down, the bruises are still bad. He looks a little bit like a racoon, but Jaemin’s not going to say anything about it because, despite all that, he’s still beautiful. It shines out from the inside. Wow, he’s sappy.

Jaemin’s at his desk, laptop open. He can see the group chat on his screen. Everyone’s talking—or, well, still yelling at Jeno—except Mark. While he’s been silent in the group chat, he did send a private message saying he was glad Jeno was safe and to keep him out of trouble. As if Jaemin has control over that.

“What is it?” Jaemin asks as he sends a message, letting them know that they need to relax. Jeno is fine. He’s safe. Albeit he’s a little stupid. Still Jaemin’s trying to do damage control, not start up another debate on Jeno’s missing braincells.

“Can you look at me?”

The question is so soft that Jaemin nearly misses it. He turns. Jeno’s got his bottom lip caught between his teeth, dark eyes trained on Jaemin. The only times he’s ever looked like that is when he’s trying to be serious and worried about the reaction. It’s not something Jaemin normally sees because Jeno doesn’t ever have to be worried about how Jaemin will respond. They’ve always been open, on the same page. Now, it feels like Jeno’s about to say something he’s really hoping he won’t regret and it makes Jaemin’s nerves spike.

Of course, he’s not going to let Jeno be any more anxious than he needs to be, so he stands up and moves to sit on the edge of his bed, Jeno’s legs against his back. Jeno isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s found the trim of his shirt much more interesting and his fingers are fiddling. Jaemin reaches out to take Jeno’s hands in his. When Jeno looks up again, Jaemin smiles.

“What’s wrong?”

The air feels thick again, but it’s not quite as uncomfortable as he thinks it should be. There’s a layer of uncertainty, sure. However, he can feel something akin to ease wrap around him, too. He squeezes Jeno’s hands to try and sooth whatever concern is floating around Jeno’s mind.

Jeno manages a tight-lipped smile and glances quickly around the room before they land on something and his brow furrowed. “Your pictures are gone.”

“Hm?” Jaemin follows his line of sight to the blank wall above his desk. Ah. “Um, yeah. After our fight, I sort of, took them down. They’re in the drawer. I’ll put them back up.”

He goes to move to do so, but Jeno’s hold keeps him on the bed. “I really hurt you.”

“I didn’t exactly help the situation. We were both in the wrong.” He shakes his head. “We don’t need to worry about it anymore. You’re safe now. And we’ll deal with whatever is going on together. When it’s over you can buy me ice cream for a month.”

That makes Jeno laugh. Maybe it wasn’t the best move, though, because Jeno groans and presses a hand to his side. Jaemin apologizes and Jeno waves him off with a grimace—although, it was probably meant to be a smile.

“Is that what you wanted to ask me?” Jaemin inquires.

Jeno shakes his head. “Um, no, actually. I wanted to ask—or at least tell you, I suppose. I mean, I should tell you. I never got a chance to and this isn’t exactly how I imagined it going and—”

“You’re rambling,” Jaemin says with a grin. Well, that’s the Jeno he knows. He’s missed him.

“Sorry, I’m just,” he inhales, “nervous.”

Jaemin tilts his head. “It’s just me, Jen. I don’t know why I’d make you nervous.”

“I like you.”

Jaemin stills.

Hands tightening on Jaemin’s, he says, “I really like you, Nana. You…You know that, right? What happened last night, I don’t regret that and, if I’m honest, I would like to do it again. And maybe more later down the line and I really like you and I’d like for you to be my boyfriend. If you want that.” Jaemin blinks. “Please say something.”

There are so many things he wants to say. He wants to tell Jeno he’s in love with him and has been for years. He wants to tell Jeno that it’s okay because he understands. He understands so much more than Jeno probably thinks he does. But none of those words want to come out because he’s just so stunned.

Jeno’s watching him with pleading, earnest eyes and Jaemin hates the fact that this is the time his tongue decided it didn’t want to move and his voice didn’t want to sound.

Instead, he does the one thing his body will allow him to do. He presses his lips to Jeno’s. It’s simple. Just a light touch at first. And he hopes it’s enough to show Jeno his feelings, to pass on his thoughts, and how he really wants to keep doing this, too.

And it’s not hard, he thinks as he slants his lips against Jeno’s, to transfer his emotions over. He’s waited so long, never sure if would ever come true. Part of him has always been at peace with the idea of never having Jeno in a romantic way and to just continue to be his best friend, but the other part has never let go of that hope, that want. Wanting him more than his own breath. More than his stupid superpowers. More than life itself. He needs Jeno to know that. Needs him to understand that. 

As he breaks the kiss, Jeno’s hand finds the nape of his neck and pulls him in again. He shifts forward, careful not to lay his hands on the several bruises littering Jeno’s body. A shiver goes down his spin when Jeno’s nails accidently scrape across his skin and it causes him to gasp against Jeno’s lips and search out more. Because, god damn it, he’s been waiting this long and he’s not going to let him go now. He tugs at Jeno’s collar, his other hand tangling in Jeno’s wet hair, and he wants to be closer. He needs to be closer.

A whine escapes him when Jeno leans away. His lips brush against Jaemin’s as he asks, “Is that a yes?”

“Shut up,” Jaemin hisses and his lips find Jeno’s again.

He’s not sure how long they continue for, but it’s not long enough. A loud knock echoes through the house and Jaemin snaps away, brow furrowed. Whoever is at the front door is going to get it.

Jeno brushes Jaemin’s bangs out of his face with a smile. “Go get it. It’s okay.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well, I’m not exactly able to,” says Jeno and Jaemin huffs, getting up from the bed with slightly shaky legs because, _wow_ , Jeno’s practically kissed him breathless. It’s entirely unfair.

Jaemin makes it to the front door and he can hear the familiar voices on the other side. He has half a mind to turn around and go back upstairs. He doesn’t get to, though.

“Jaemin Na, open the fucking door right now,” Donghyuck demands.

Sighing, Jaemin gathers himself and swings the door open. Donghyuck doesn’t even spare him a glance. He pushes right past and rushes up the stairs to Jaemin’s bedroom. Jaemin manages one desperate look to Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung before flinging himself after his friend.

“Donghyuck!” he shouts. “Don’t do anything. He’s injured.”

“Injured be damned,” is Donghyuck’s response. He slams the door open and Jeno sits up. Unfortunately, he’s seemed to forgotten he’s sore because he leans back almost immediately, breathing shallowly through his nose. Donghyuck’s glare is still in place, but he’s stopped moving, taking in Jeno’s condition. “What the fuck happened to you? What the hell is going on?”

“Language,” Jaemin says, tiredly. He goes over to check on Jeno. He’s only given a smile and he shakes his head, knowing full well that Jeno’s trying to play tough. “What are you guys doing here, anyway?”

“Coming to check on this bastard,” Donghyuck says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t see why we needed to. He’s getting spoiled rotten.”

Jeno grins at him. “Hello to you, too, Hyuck. Missed you.”

Donghyuck snorts. “I have no doubt about that. I’m amazing.” Then, his glare softens. “And you’re an idiot. Where were you?”

“At the…” his voice trails off as Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung enter the room, “place. Hey, guys.”

“Jeno!” Chenle cries out. He throws himself to the edge of the bed and hugs Jeno’s legs, blinking up with him with big eyes. “Are you okay?”

Ruffling Chenle’s hair, he answers, “I’ll be okay. Nana’s been helping me.”

“I’m sure he has.” Donghyuck’s comment makes Jaemin’s cheeks flame. Of course, Donghyuck isn’t stupid. His eyes flick between Jaemin’s embarrassed shuffle and Jeno’s grin and something seems to click. “Well, about fucking time.”

“What?” Chenle asks. “What is it? What happened? I want to know!”

“Chill, kid.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes at him. Then he looks to Jaemin and does that smug smile that he hates to be on the receiving end of, and says, “You guys actually a thing now? No more pining? No more hopeless, sappy looks when the other isn’t looking?”

Jaemin bites at his thumb and Jeno laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, Jaemin’s my boyfriend now.”

“Finally,” Jisung and Renjun manage to say at the same time. They exchange glances, shrug, and turn back to Jeno to ask him what happened. Chenle is bouncing, his voice getting higher with each word. Jisung rests a hand on his shoulder to silently tell him to control himself.

Jaemin takes the opportunity to catch Donghyuck’s arm. He glances quickly to Jeno, who catches his gaze and nods. Without another word, he pulls Donghyuck from the room and down the hall to his parents’ room. Donghyuck’s leaning against the footboard of the bed when Jaemin turns around from closing the door tightly.

“Wow, so, he comes to your place looking like that and you confessed? Who knew you were into that kind of thing.”

Jaemin walks up and swats him on the arm. “I’m not. He showed up last night and he was passing out on my porch.” Dragging a hand down his face, he elaborates, “I had to patch him up. Things…happened.”

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when Donghyuck and his lack of self-control starts wiggling his brows suggestively. “Things, huh?”

“Don’t make me hit you again,” he warns. Donghyuck lifts his hands in mock surrender. “All right, so, long-story-short, Jeno’s in a bit of trouble with a local gang and I need you to help us.”

“A gang? Good god, what the hell is he getting up to?” Donghyuck elicits a humorous laugh. “Underground boxing and then a gang. Of course. Makes perfect sense. What do they want?”

“Money,” Jaemin answers. “They made a deal and Jeno needs to win a fight Saturday morning in order for them to leave him and his family alone. I want you to come with us in case something goes wrong.”

Donghyuck wrinkles his brow. “Am I just convenient ammo now? ‘Going into a dangerous situation, so let’s bring Donghyuck!’”

“I figured,” he says, slowly, “that perhaps you would rather me ask you than tell you not to come. Because I know, deep down, you’d find any excuse to come with us anyway. Am I wrong?”

“Well, no. But I’d still appreciate not being used as an expedient weapon when something dangerous is happening.”

“Fair point. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever. So, Saturday, you said?”

Jaemin nods. “Yeah, Saturday morning. And I think we should bring Mark.”

That makes Donghyuck choke on air. “I’m sorry, what? Why? His power isn’t offensive at all. Hell, his power doesn’t even work when he’s awake! We aren’t bringing him to fight a gang.”

“We need him because he’s the most level-headed,” Jaemin explains. He raises a hand when Donghyuck opens his mouth to retort. “If things get heated,” he shoots Donghyuck a heavy look, “we need someone to talk it down. You know you’re more in control when he’s around. Don’t even argue with me. Plus, like you said, he’s charming. When it counts, he has a way with words.”

Donghyuck crosses his arms and glares at the wall. It’s abundantly clear that he hates this plan. If there were other options, Jaemin would have chosen them, but he doesn’t have much choice. He had thought about dealing with the police. Only problem with that is the fact that Jeno and the club could get into trouble and Jeno desperately didn’t want that to happen. The other option was to drag in people like Donghyuck’s cousin and his friends, but who knew how they would respond to the whole thing. This was the only way to make sure things stayed as quiet as possible. And to keep Jeno out of trouble from the law.

Was it smart? Absolutely not.

Did he have much of a choice? Not really.

“I just really think we should keep Mark out of it,” Donghyuck said, finally, biting the inside of his cheek.

Jaemin eyes him. “You still haven’t talked to him, have you?”

He gets no reply.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You have no intention of talking to him, do you? It’s been almost two weeks, Donghyuck. You said you would fix it!”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” Donghyuck shouted. “Every time I go to text him I just can’t, okay? Because I screwed up and I don’t know how to fix it.”

It’s an odd sight, he thinks as he studies the way Donghyuck pulls at the sleeves of his shirt and keeps his gaze locked on the floor. Donghyuck’s not usually so, well, scared. Sure, he’s been scared before. Startled, really. He hates horror movies and he doesn’t like haunted houses and he’s got the lungs of a singer that make his screams rival Chenle. But he’s never been scared of Mark. Not like this.

Jaemin wants to reach out, but he knows that if he does, he might freak Donghyuck out even more. Maybe even make him run. So, Jaemin simply lets Donghyuck stands there, shifting from one foot to the other, hands fiddling with his shirt, and breathing a little tightly. A little too frazzled.

“What are you so scared of?” he whispers.

Donghyuck’s eyes snap to his and there’s a moment of pure panic that Jaemin’s never seen on his friend’s face in his whole time of knowing him. Then, it slips, features schooling, and Donghyuck shrugs, feigning indifference. It’s faulty, though. That much Jaemin can decipher.

“Look,” he starts, trying to get Donghyuck’s attention again, “you don’t need to tell me. But I will tell you this. Mark is your best friend. And you’re his. You guys need each other. This has gone on long enough, don’t you think? Don’t you miss him?”

“Of course, I do. I just figured he would enjoy some time without my annoying ass around.”

“Trust me, he’s the only person who enjoys having your annoying ass around all the time,” Jaemin says and Donghyuck coughs a laugh. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he replies.

“We may need you both on Saturday, but that’s not why I’m telling you to fix this. I hate seeing you both so sad. Is what happened in the past really worth losing a friendship over?”

Donghyuck stays quiet for a moment. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Communicating is a good start,” Jaemin offers. “We have time today. Once the others have left, you and I are going to find Mark and we’re going to deal with it.”

Eyes wide, he stutters out a, “Today?”

“Yes,” Jaemin presses. “Today. Because you should have done it weeks ago and you’ve been procrastinating. Today, Donghyuck Lee. You’re fixing this _today_.”

Jaemin’s out of the room before Donghyuck can get a word in edgewise. Maybe he’s not being entirely fair. However, he knows that Donghyuck is stubborn—just like the rest of them—and is only going to get his act together if he’s pushed. So, Jaemin leaves him without any other argument.

The group stick together for the day. Jeno’s pretty much confined to the bed until he can handle walking by himself without stilling in pain. Chenle, being the sweetheart he is, orders them all pizza and they camp out in Jaemin’s room recalling old, humiliating stories and trying to drag out information about Jeno and Jaemin’s newfound relationship. Luckily for Jeno, no one digs into what happened to him. Or where he was. Whenever Chenle seems close to breaching the subject, Renjun steps in. There’s a knowing look that passes between him and Jaemin every time and Jaemin is thankful.

When it starts to get late, the others leave. Donghyuck’s standing on the stairs when Renjun notices he’s not coming. He asks him as much and Donghyuck tells him he’ll leave soon. Jaemin tries to pretend he doesn’t see the look of suspicion flicker through Renjun’s eyes. Once the door closes, Jaemin points at Donghyuck and tells him to get ready.

“Where are you going?” Jeno asks as Jaemin reaches for his jacket he’d flung over the back of his chair.

“Going to deal with Donghyuck and Mark,” he replies.

Jeno hums. “Good luck with that.”

“I’ll be back.” He leans down to kiss the top of Jeno’s head. He tenses when he realizes what he’s done. It happened so easily, without thought. 

A hand intertwines with his and Jeno smiles. “Come back soon, yeah?” Jaemin nods dumbly. Before he knows it, Jeno’s pulled him down to catch him in a quick kiss. “And do it properly next time. My lips are down here.”

Jaemin’s pretty sure his neck to his forehead are still red when he makes it to the foyer where Donghyuck is waiting.

“Shut up,” is all he says as he opens the door and walks out.

Donghyuck snickers.

Now, Jaemin didn’t have a full plan for what to do. He figures getting Donghyuck and Mark in the same vicinity would be a good start. So, he texts Mark to meet him at the park. Mark has a car, so he’s not too worried of being rejected. That being said, he subsequently leaves out the fact that Donghyuck is with him just in case.

The thing is, Mark gives in so easily, but also not at all. He lets people walk over him, but that doesn’t mean he completely moves on from it. Jaemin’s seen how Mark shoves his feelings down just to keep Donghyuck close. He’s willing to go through struggle after struggle just to keep things as normal as possible. There have been plenty of times that the two have fought, resulting in Donghyuck giving a quiet apology without really changing the circumstances and Mark just welcoming him back with a smile. Nothing really changes. It just continues on as if nothing had ever happened.

Jaemin wonders if this time will be different. It seems like the situation is a little rockier than ever before. Mark hasn’t automatically forgiven Donghyuck like he normally would have and Donghyuck hasn’t been able to reel him back in with his wittiness and ability to gloss over the confrontation like he normally would have.

Donghyuck follows along, two steps behind, uncharacteristically quiet. Jaemin knows he could talk to him, but he also knows that Donghyuck wouldn’t want that. Not now. He would rather keep to his own thoughts than have someone chat to him about needless things. Especially with an appending, awkward meeting about to happen.

Instead, they stick to silence. Jaemin keeps his eyes locked ahead, Donghyuck’s footsteps shuffling in his ears. He just hopes that what he’s doing is the right choice.

Mark’s sitting on top of the monkey bars when they arrive. His back is to them, so he doesn’t know they’ve arrived until Donghyuck inhales in a little too sharply and the wind doesn’t cover it. Mark turns.

Jaemin bites his lip. He really hopes this was the right choice.

To his luck, neither of them run. He counts that as a win. Unceremoniously, Jaemin pushes Donghyuck forward. His shoes crunch against the playground gravel. Mark studies Donghyuck without expression. The light of the street lamps cast them all in an ugly yellow glow.

For a moment, the two boys simply look at each other. Jaemin’s heart sinks when Mark turns away. He catches Donghyuck’s hands curl into fists.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck blurts.

His voice is small, but it carries so far. Jaemin wonders if he should be watching. He steps away to stand at the gate of the park, viewing out into the street. He can still hear them, but at least they think he’s not observing the whole thing. The gravel crunches again and when Jaemin takes a peek, he can see Donghyuck’s moved under the monkey bars to the other side to look up at Mark.

“I’m so sorry,” Donghyuck says again.

Mark is quiet.

Donghyuck rubs at his nose and sighs. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“That’s not surprising,” comes Mark’s response. Jaemin shudders. He’s never heard Mark so cold to Donghyuck before.

When more silence follows, Jaemin turns back to the streets. He shouldn’t be looking. He shouldn’t be listening. This is between the two of them and Jaemin has no right to it. Still, he can’t help but worry that everything is falling through the cracks and he can’t make himself leave just yet.

“Fine,” Donghyuck huff. His voice suddenly picks up, much louder and stronger than before. “Fine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole. I’m sorry because I know I hurt you. And I acknowledge what happened, okay? I acknowledge it! But I can’t…” Jaemin glances back again when he hears the shake in Donghyuck’s voice, when it faulters completely into nothing. Donghyuck’s head is hanging down, his copper hair shadowing his face. He’s gripping at his pants as if it’ll help keep him grounded. “You know I can’t—” His voice breaks again.

Mark jumps from the monkey bars. He lands neatly in front of Donghyuck. Inches from him, really. And without another word, he pulls Donghyuck into his arms so Donghyuck’s head is tucked beneath his chin. Everything seems to settle around them.

That’s when Jaemin knows they’ll be okay. He decides to head home. They’ll figure the rest out themselves. At least now they have a chance.

*

“This is a really bad idea,” Mark says as they get ready in Jaemin’s room. He’s shifting around by the door, hands shoved into his black hoodie.

He’s been somewhat quiet since he arrived, only greeting them all and asking Jeno how he’s doing. Jaemin wonders if it’s just the nerves of what they’re about to do or if he’s feeling particularly awkward from having avoided everyone for a few weeks and doesn’t know what to say about it. As time ticks on, Jaemin can see him relax into the group setting. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop his shoulders from tensing every time someone mentions what’s about to happen.

If Jaemin is perfectly honest, he’s feeling the tension, too. And his stomach is killing him, though he tries his best to ignore it. Instead, he focuses in on Jeno clutching his hand, rubbing circles with his thumb. It’s comforting to say the least. It just also makes Jaemin think of impending doom.

Donghyuck, who’s taken to texting on his phone, looks up. He seems tired. Very much so. Then again, it’s fairly early in the morning. They aren’t meant to be at the meeting point until ten, but the group of them met up at eight anyway, just to prepare themselves and come up with a plan. Or several. None of them really know what’s about to happen.

“I agree with, Mark,” Donghyuck says.

Leaning against the frame, Mark raises a brow, his lips lifting into a crooked smile as he looks down at where Donghyuck has sprawled himself on the floor.

“What are you looking at?” he asks, gruffly.

Mark shakes his head, still grinning. “You never agree with me. Actually, you always say the exact opposite even if you don’t actually mean it.”

Sitting up, Donghyuck shrugs. “Yeah, well, this is a more desperate situation. We’re about to send Jeno into the lions’ den without any sort of protection.”

“Um, that’s why you’re coming,” Jeno reminds him.

“And see, that doesn’t make me feel any better about the situation,” Mark says, pointing at him.

“Oh, wow, thank you for that wonderful vote of confidence,” replies Donghyuck. His phone buzzes along the hardwood, but he ignores it.

Mark produces a groan as he runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that you don’t have much control to begin with. I’m just thinking that maybe we might need someone a little more,” he winces when Donghyuck glares at him, “practice. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Jaemin says before Donghyuck can start a fight. He eyes the buzzing phone on the floor. “We have to work with what we have. Besides, you’re here to keep everything calm, Mark.”

“No pressure or anything,” Mark mutters.

The phone buzzes again.

“Are you going to answer that?” Jaemin says, jutting his chin out towards the phone.

Donghyuck snatches it up to read the messages. He quickly types something and sets it down again. “What time are we leaving? And where are we meeting them?”

“Probably in an hour,” Jeno says. “At the club.”

“Chanyeol allowed that?”

“No idea. I’m just going where I need to go. No need to piss these people off more than I need to.”

Jeno squeezes Jaemin’s hand. Jaemin’s not sure if it was supposed to mean something or not. Perhaps he’s starting to get nervous, or maybe he’s remembering what happened last Friday. Either way, Jaemin smiles at him in the hopes of easing some of the tension. In all honesty, Jeno should be lucky he’s a fairly fast healer. Granted, the bruises still look fairly bad. However, the pain’s subsided a lot quicker than it would have for someone else, like Jaemin. He’s able to walk around with ease now, and during the week he had tossed Chenle over his shoulder—against Jaemin’s warnings—and didn’t damage himself any farther, so Jaemin considers that a very good sign.

The only issue is that Jeno may not be in the best shape for a fight. He’s safe to fool around with their friends, to go to school, but to box? Jaemin worries for the worst. Over the week, Jeno’s been trying his best to calm his nerves. It hasn’t worked. Gangs weren’t something they should be dealing with. They shouldn’t be dealing with these kinds of things at all.

It was no surprise that Mark agreed with that. Between Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck, they had unloaded the whole story. Jaemin didn’t really blame him when he stared at them all with a mixed look of disbelief and pure disappointment. And, in all honesty, Jaemin should have expected the clenched jaw and narrowed eyes when they reiterated their trip to Jeno’s fight club. Mark had not be impressed to say the least.

While he had originally been pretty adamant that they weren’t going to meet with the gang, it hadn’t been difficult to sway him to come. In fact, he had said that if they were going, that he was coming, too.

They decide that Jeno and Mark will handle the talking. Jaemin and Donghyuck are the backup. They’re to keep away until they’re needed. Jaemin isn’t sure he likes the idea of letting Jeno face the gang without him at his side, but Mark’s plans are generally fairly well played out, so he tries to get over it.

When it finally hits nine o’clock, they make their way to the foyer. Donghyuck, eyes on his phone, nearly takes a header as he reaches the bottom of the steps. Mark instinctively clutches his arm and pulls him back into his chest and Jaemin lets out a sigh of relief. He really doesn’t need Donghyuck injuring himself before all of this goes down.

Donghyuck’s ears are pink when he mutters a “thank you” to Mark and continues to put on his shoes.

They take a bus to the stop near the Red-light District, and as the border gets closer, Jaemin’s hands start to sweat. The difference this time is that Jeno is right there with him. He reaches out to take Jeno’s hand.

This isn’t exactly what he wants to be doing on a Saturday morning.

As they near the club, Jaemin notices three figures. One with green hair. Jaemin twists to look at Donghyuck, who has the audacity to look sheepish. 

Jeno seems to spot them, as well, because he slows his steps and shakes his head. “What are they doing here?”

Jaemin isn’t willing to stop. A sudden burst of energy propels him forward. He pulls Jeno along until they come to a stop before their three friends. 

“Why are you here?” Jaemin demands.

Renjun levels him with a glare, arms crossed and chin raised. “I don’t think you get to be angry, Jaemin Na. You kept this from us. We’re here to help.”

“No,” Jeno says. “No, you guys can’t be here. This is dangerous.”

“As if it’s not dangerous for you, too?” Renjun snaps. “What happened to friendship, huh? What happened to not keeping secrets? Look, I was fine with it until I realized that something was very much wrong. It took ages to drag information out of _that_ one.”

Jaemin follows Renjun’s finger toward Donghyuck. He’s usually so good at keeping secrets. Then again, he’s not usually faced with Renjun’s wrath when he does. Despite his small stature, Renjun is a terrifying boy when he needs to be.

“So, I don’t care what you say, Jeno. We’re here now and you’re stuck with us.” Renjun locks his jaw and eyes them all, as if daring them to argue with him.

Jeno inhales deeply. “Fine. But keep out of the way. Deal? I don’t need anyone getting hurt if we can help it.”

“Code names, too,” Mark puts in.

Donghyuck groans. “Why?”

“Because I’m not risking them finding out any personal information that we can keep to ourselves. That’s why.”

“Hypnos has a point,” Renjun says. He uncurls his arms and puts his hands in his pockets. “So, plan?”

Jeno gives them the run down and everyone agrees to stick with it. Jaemin gives Jeno’s hand another squeeze as they head to the door. There’s no bouncer this time and Jaemin wonders if they’ll actually be able to get in. Sure enough, though, when Jeno knocks, it’s answered.

The person who opens the door is not what Jaemin expects. He’s shorter than Jeno with sharp eyes and pretty face. He doesn’t look like he should be in a fight club at all. In fact, he looks far too young, barely older than Chenle. But when he pushes the door open wider, Jaemin catches the inked in ‘S’ that curls around his wrist and the look Jeno gives him is void of any emotion. There’s a moment when Jaemin’s brain slowly clicks it all into place. This boy was part of the gang.

The boy turns and heads inside, letting them all follow down the stairs. The lights are only on over the ring, casting the rest of the place in shadow. Without all the people, the club seems so much wider than Jaemin originally thought. Their footsteps echo on every surface.

Eight.

That’s how many people Jaemin counts. Three inside the ring and five surrounding the platform. They seem at home there. When they get closer, the boy who let them in joining his crew off to the side, Jaemin realizes that they’re all rather young. One or two of them seem to be around Mark’s age, maybe a year or two older, but that’s about it. It’s an odd sort of feeling Jaemin feels when he takes note of this. Surely, a gang would have much older members.

One of the boys in the ring turns to greet them with a beaming grin, leaning on the ropes. “Ah, so he finally arrives. Man of the hour.”

“Where’s your leader?” Jeno asks, eyes searching the rest of the club. It’s empty and dark.

“Figured he didn’t need to be here for this,” the boy replies. Ah, so that’s where all the adults were. “He thought we could handle you. And look at this, you brought friends. Doesn’t matter. They can watch while you get your face rearranged.”

Jaemin doesn’t want to let go of Jeno’s hand, but he’s forced to. Jeno and Mark step closer to the group, hesitant that something may happen if they aren’t being careful. Jaemin appreciates that.

“Unless, of course,” the boy continues, “you’re going to be good and just hand us the money.”

“I can’t do that,” Jeno tells him.

The boy clicks his tongue. With the utmost ease, he slips under the ropes and jumps down. The two boys that were with him follow close behind.

“That’s really too bad. Although, at least we get a show out of it, right?”

Jeno’s clenches his fists so hard that his knuckles turn white. Jaemin wants to punch the boy. Nevertheless, he keeps beside the rest of the group. He can feel Chenle and Jisung shift uneasily behind him. He doesn’t turn to them, however. He doesn’t want to draw attention to them just in case these gang kids want to have more fun outside of just Jeno.

“I guess I’m fighting Changbin, again?” Jeno asks and Jaemin is impressed at how calm his voice is.

“Changbin?” The boy erupts into laughter. It’s reverberates off the walls. “God, no! You really think we’d let him fight again after he lost to you? Uh uh.” He wiggles a finger, smile still wide in an eerie sort of way. “No, you’re fighting Woojin.”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to change the fighters,” Mark says.

The boy’s eyes slide to Mark, almost as if he hadn’t realized Mark was there all along. “Yeah? Well, you don’t make the rules, pretty boy. I do. And if I say Jeno’s fighting Woojin, then he’s fighting Woojin. Get it?”

“And how do we know it’ll be a fair fight?”

Something flashes in the boy’s eyes. He moves slowly toward Mark and Donghyuck tenses. Jaemin reaches out to take his wrist and squeeze it in warning. No unnecessary fights. Whether or not he got the message, Donghyuck stays still anyway. Mark watches the boy with an unreadable expression. Even once they’re face to face.

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Hypnos.”

The boy snorts. “Right. Sure. I’m Chan. And this is my crew. And this is my,” he throws his hands out, “domain right now. I’d appreciate it if you kept that mouth of yours shut or you’ll be the one in the ring.”

“And I would appreciate it if you got out of my face,” Mark says. There’s no malice. No tension. Just a simple statement.

Chan’s eyes wander over Mark for a moment before he snorts once again. “Can’t scare you, can I?”

“You can try,” Mark tells him. “But right now, we have better things to be doing. Don’t you think? Is Woojin a fair match to Jeno?”

He has dimples, Jaemin’s mind needlessly notices, as Chan grin’s wide. “Totally fair.”

The things is, they don’t know if he’s telling the truth or not. They’re just going to have to trust him. And Jaemin wouldn’t trust this boy as far as he could throw him. An uncomfortable feeling grips at Jaemin’s stomach as Jeno marches over to the platform, pulling off his shirt in the process, and jumps up. By the time he’s picking up the bandages left in the corner of the ring to wrap up his hands, another boy is joining him.

He doesn’t seem much bigger than Jeno at all. In fact, he’s probably very close to the same size. But he does seem older by a few years. In the yellow light, his hair is an ugly orange, not unlike Donghyuck’s at the moment. He’s already set up for the match, it seems. His shirt is off, revealing a strong muscular build and broad shoulders. If Jaemin thinks about it, this boy—Woojin—seems very comfortable inside the ring. He wonders how many fights Woojin has fought. And won.

“How about you be the referee, Mr. Hypnos?” Chan asks, tossing Mark a whistle. “I think you’d be a fair one.”

Mark snatches the whistle out of the air with a practiced catch. He studies it for a while before joining Jeno and Woojin in the ring. Mark may not have offensive powers, but that didn’t stop Jaemin from being slightly thankful for him being up there. If something were to happen, it was better if Jeno had Mark up close, than two gang members.

“Well,” Chan announces, “let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

“Ready?” Mark asks Jeno.

Jeno nods and puts up his fists, Woojin mirroring him. “Ready.”

There’s no mouth guards this time. No extra help. No medical on the side. It’s two boys about to go at a fist fight with barely any rules and no one to help control the situation if something went wrong. And it’s about this time that Jaemin realizes that he may not be much help should things turn sour. There are no plants underground. There’s nothing for him to grab onto. Which means one thing.

He was completely reliant on Jeno winning this fight and Donghyuck’s uncontrolled power.

Well, he felt lucky.

Not.

Woojin throws the first punch. Jaemin sucks in a sharp breath, ready for the impact, but Jeno’s ready. He throws his hands up to smack the fist away and rams his own fist into Woojin’s nose. The boy stumbles back. Jaemin knows that if he had gotten punched in the face it would hurt. Woojin doesn’t seem as bothered. He wipes at his nose as if he’s used to the pain to the point that he can’t even feel it.

They’re light on their feet, their movements small and strong. Every jab Jeno throws is blocked, and he dodges every one of Woojin’s. Jaemin doesn’t realizes he’s holding Donghyuck’s wrist again until Donghyuck hisses when Jaemin squeezes a little too hard when Woojin backs Jeno up toward the ropes, throwing a speedy combination. A solid punch lands to Jeno’s jaw, but he doesn’t react. He only pushes forward. His muscles tense and relax with every step and throw.

Jaemin’s never been into boxing, or fighting in general. He likes to keep things as civil as possible until actions are needed. Donghyuck likes to laugh at him, dubbing him the ‘flower child’ of the group. It takes all his power not to run up into the ring and throw himself before Jeno. And while he and his friends watch on with bated breath, Woojin’s buddies are having the times of their lives. They’re loud. Obnoxiously so. Several of them are shouting and banging their fists against the canvas.

Jeno throws a punch, the swing a little too wide. Woojin bounces back and Jeno rocks haphazardly forward before catching himself. Unfortunately, Woojin lands a hit in an uppercut. Jeno’s head snaps back and Woojin slams his fist into Jeno’s stomach. Instead of doubling over, Jeno rushes Woojin and knocks him into the ropes. Woojin rebounds and they’re dancing around each other again. Jeno rubs his hand under his jaw, eyebrows tight.

“I don’t trust him,” Renjun whispers.

Jaemin can’t pull his eyes from Jeno, but he does turn his head just slightly to ask, “Who?”

“Woojin. He’s hiding something.”

If that were the case, Jaemin wouldn’t be surprised. These people weren’t really on the right side of the law. Woojin seemed just a little too calm, a little too good. While Jeno wasn’t a bad fighter, he certainly could do with more practice. There was something so uneven with their skill level. Woojin wasn’t a fair fighter for Jeno.

Mark is sticking as close as he can without accidentally stepping into the way of a flying fist. It’s a lot of jabs and dodging. Jeno’s keeping a steady tempo. The issue is, Woojin’s gang doesn’t seem to appreciate Jeno’s rhythm.

“Come on, Woojin!” one of them shouts. “Hurry up.”

“How do we know when someone wins?” asks Chenle.

Chan, who’s taken a spot off to the side, watching the whole thing with a treacherous grin, glances their way. “Until one of them’s knocked out, of course.”

Jaemin tries to move, but Donghyuck’s holding him back. Perhaps he’s attempting to stop him from doing what he did last time during a fight and distract Jeno. But it’s frustrating to watch him take hits and not be able to help in some way. Still, he keeps rooted to his spot, gasping when Jeno gets a particularly hard punch to the side of the face. He fumbles in his steps and nearly lands on Mark. Mark takes his arms to straighten him only for Jeno to brush him off and turn back to the fight.

Something catches Jaemin’s eye, though. Jeno reaches up to touch at the spot he was hit. He’s bloody, skin scrapped up as if he had just taken a header into asphalt. Jaemin immediately looks to Woojin’s fists. He’s not wearing anything abnormal. It’s simply bare skin. But that doesn’t mean Woojin was a Negate. There was a high chance he had a power.

“Did any of you see that?” Renjun hisses.

Jaemin shakes his head, observing Woojin now. At least, he tries. He can’t help his eyes from snapping to Jeno each time he moves. It takes a lot of willpower to keep his attention on the opponent. Woojin is a firm fighter. That much Jaemin can give him. But there’s something about the way his lips keep creeping up into a smirk that has Jaemin on edge and makes Woojin seem a little unstable.

Maybe it’s because Jaemin was monitoring so closely, or maybe it was because Woojin just didn’t seem to want to be careful, but the next punch thrown feels as if it hits Jaemin just as much as it hits Jeno in the gut. The bare skin of Woojin’s fist morphs. Not completely, but enough that Jaemin can see the way the skin hardens, greying just slightly, and becoming almost rock-like. When his hand pulls back, it’s normal again.

Mark seems to have caught it just as quickly as Jaemin because the whistle is to his lips and he’s blowing it loud and long to stop the fight. Jeno stops immediately. Woojin doesn’t seem to get the message.

Suddenly, everything goes wild.

Woojin shoves Mark to the side and tackles Jeno to the ground. Donghyuck is no longer at Jaemin’s side and instead rushing for the platform, forcing himself through the gang with the help of Renjun. It’s loud, it’s chaos, and it makes the world spin.

Jaemin turns around to Chenle and Jisung. “Stay back,” he snaps before rushing toward Chan and grabbing him by the collar. “Stop this. Stop this now!”

His hands are pulled away with little effort. Chan, apparently, is a lot stronger than him. “Don’t touch me,” Chan growls, pushing him away. “And I don’t need to do anything you say. Try to fight us, pinky. You’re not going to win.”

His heart is jumping in his chest as Woojin slams his fist into Jeno’s face. His hand, and halfway up his arm, is completely rock. Donghyuck’s made his way up into the ring and, as he throws himself onto Jeno still form, Mark rams into Woojin to knock him away. Without thinking, Jaemin runs into the fray.

The lights are flickering, the darkness creeping in around them. Jaemin shoves a guy off of Renjun and helps him up, turning just as a bolt of lightning is expelled from a light above and hits the spot Renjun had originally been in. The gang moves in on them, moving the two back against the platform.

Jaemin catches Chenle’s eye and snaps, “Vox, ears!”

Without question, Renjun’s hands come up to block his ears, just as Jaemin and Jisung do. He really hopes Donghyuck and Mark are quick enough. Chenle inhales deep and shouts. It’s a low, humming noise that echoes through the club like a bass through a subwoofer. Strong enough to burst eardrums if needed.

As expected, the boys around them yell, hands slamming to their ears. As much as they’re all the enemy here, Jaemin hopes the damage isn’t permanent. That’s the least of his worries, though. Using the distraction, he twists around and grips the ropes to tug himself up, desperate to get to Jeno. Woojin pulls away from Mark to punch him. The hit is awkward, but the rock along his fingers cut into Mark’s cheek anyway. Mark pushes him back into the canvas.

“Jeno?” Jaemin calls as he kneels next to him, tapping his bloody cheek. The damage is bad and he’s clearly unconscious. “Jeno, please, wake up.”

Woojin shoves Mark away and goes to grab the ropes to help stand himself up, but Donghyuck is on his feet, eyes gold.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His tone drops and Jaemin feels a chill shoot down his spine.

In a blink, fire surrounds them, clinging to each of the ropes. Woojin stares up at Donghyuck. Jaemin wants to reach out and grab his arm. Except he can’t. Flames lick their way up from Donghyuck’s fingers to his elbows. When he tilts his head and grins, it’s like being scorched without contact.

“Haechan,” Mark says, raising to his feet. There’s blood dripping from his nose. “Hae, you need to keep calm down.”

It’s hard to see through the warped, heated air and the orange flames, but Jaemin can see the gang backing away from the ring. Renjun is on the other side, jaw set and gaze steady. Waiting.

There’s a reason Donghyuck doesn’t use his powers. It’s uncontrollable. Unstable. Donghyuck isn’t like most fire users that need an outside force to control, like a lighter or a match. The fire comes from inside of him. Completely tied to himself. It’s dangerous and unruly. Much like Donghyuck.

Woojin moves to his feet and, from his feet to his head, his skin solidifies into rock. His joints grind as he straightens, fists ready.

Jaemin is still as Donghyuck steps toward Woojin. “You know,” he says, “I really hate cheaters. Shall we see if I can melt rock?”

He raises a fiery hand, but Mark is there between them, hands in the air. “No.”

“Move,” Donghyuck orders. “Let me melt him into a puddle.”

“Extinguish it, Haechan. They’re sufficiently spooked. You need to stop now before it hurts you. Please.”

Donghyuck looks under Mark’s arm at Woojin, who’s taken to moving to the other side of the ring. Then, as Donghyuck steps back, the fire on the ropes vanishes, leaving curling, black smoke behind. Woojin slips cowardly under the ropes, skin normal again.

“Donghyuck,” Mark whispers.

“Tired.”

He would have collapsed if Mark wasn’t ready to catch him. Even though his knees hit the canvas, he manages to stay upright. His usually golden skin appears a little paler than normal. Renjun, Jisung, and Chenle hurry up onto the platform. Renjun checks over Jeno, speaking to him in a quiet voice. Jeno’s still out of it, though, and it claws at Jaemin’s heart. All he wants is for him to make some sort of sign to say he’s fine.

The fear of him never waking up feels both irrational and totally expected to Jaemin.

The gang seems to have moved to surround Chan. Irritation settles in Jaemin’s stomach when he notices that he’s watching on with a smug grin and crossed arms, as if he knew this would happen, as if he planned it. It makes Jaemin want to punch him in the face all over again. Anti-violence be damned. 

Suddenly, all the lights turn on. It’s nearly blinding. Jaemin wasn’t aware they could be so bright.

“What the _fuck_ is going on here?”

The voice that shatters through the club is familiar and cut-throat. A breath escapes Jaemin when he sees Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and another tall man at the base of the stairs. Baekhyun, dressed in an oversized hoodie and jeans—infinitely less sparkly than Jaemin’s seen him—looks like he’s ready to kill. His steps are confident as he marches through the gang and straight to the ring. He jumps up with a practiced ease and lowers himself to check Jeno.

“Yixing, you need to heal him,” Baekhyun yells out across the room.

The other man follows the same path. It’s amazing how docile the gang members become when adults are near. They could a part of the worst crew in town, but at least they recognize they would stand no chance against the club owners.

Jaemin doesn’t want to move when Yixing arrives. His grip tightens on Jeno’s hand, forcing himself as close as possible to Jeno’s side. Yixing seems to notice this, because he simply smiles, and takes Baekhyun’s spot instead.

It’s amazing, Jaemin thinks, to see someone else’s powers and how they work. Some at a lot more subtle than others. And some have more flair. Yixing’s is somewhere in the middle. His hands light with a faint pink glow as he places them on either side of Jeno’s head, hovering just centimeters away.

“Who allowed you in here?” Baekhyun snaps. But his question isn’t toward Jaemin and his friends, it’s toward Chan.

“We got the key from our boss,” Chan answers. He doesn’t seem intimidated at all.

For a moment, Jaemin wonders if that gets on Baekhyun’s nerves as much as it does Jaemin’s. Luckily, he finds out when Baekhyun’s eyes narrow and he makes a snatching motion through the air. Immediately after, the gang start feeling at their eyes, voices high in panic. When one of them turns, Jaemin notices the white film that covers his eyes.

Blind.

Baekhyun slips under the ropes and is moving toward them just as Chanyeol hones in from the other side. Finally, Chan’s eyes hold something other than mischief and ego. He’s spun around and Chanyeol has his collar in his rather large hand.

Baekhyun stops.

“And who gave him the key?” asks Chanyeol. When Chan doesn’t reply, Chanyeol sighs. “I want this to go easy. Tell me, how he got the key?”

“Got it last time he was here,” Chan replies, smoothly.

Chanyeol’s eyes flicker down to Chan’s wrist, where an inked in ‘S’ curls through his skin. His hand tightens and he brings Chan closer. “How about you tell your boss to keep out of my club, yeah?”

Chan snorts. “As if that’ll stop him. You need fighters.”

“I’m not that desperate, kid. So,” Chanyeol says, “how about that message?”

Silence.

Chenyeol’s eyes flash gold. His hand comes up, and when fire wraps around it Jaemin can hear Donghyuck gasp.

“Chanyeol,” says Baekhyun, slowly.

The warning is ignored. Chanyeol’s voice is deep, scrapping along Jaemin’s bones, as he says, “You can tell your boss that he’s not needed around anymore. He can take his fighters elsewhere. And if he doesn’t want back away nicely, he can deal with my crew. Understood?”

Chan is still.

“Understood?” Chanyeol snaps, hand hazardously close to Chan’s face.

Finally, Chan blurts, “Fine. Fine. Let me go.”

The gold in Chanyeol’s eyes disappear at the same moment the fire dies. He lets go of Chan fairly simply, but the boy staggers back anyway. Baekhyun snaps his fingers and the stumbling gang halt. The white film disappears and they scramble back when they notice Baekhyun glaring at them.

“I shouldn’t have to say this, but get the fuck out of my club!” he shouts.

The gang bolts. Chan is the last to leave, casting one glaring expression over his shoulder before vanishing up the stairs. Baekhyun steps up to Chanyeol and rests a hand on his shoulder. He must have whispered something because Chanyeol nods and runs a hand through his hair. Before Jaemin knows it, the two are headed back toward the ring.

“Na—Nana?”

Jaemin snaps around. He finds, much to his surprise, the wounds on Jeno’s face completely gone. In fact, all of his cuts and bruises are missing. Blood still sticks to his skin, but he visibly looks better. Jeno stares up at him with dark eyes and Jaemin can’t help himself.

He leans down and kisses him as desperately as he can because, _god_ , he was scared. He was so scared. Jeno, of course, doesn’t miss a beat. His hand is in Jaemin’s hair, tugging him close.

When Jaemin breaks away, Jeno smiles at him and says, “Maybe I should have near-death experiences more often.”

Jaemin slaps his arm. “Don’t you dare!”

Yixing lifts to his feet and heads over to Mark and Donghyuck. It takes a tap on the nose—Mark going a bit cross-eyed—for Mark to heal completely. Yixing eyes Donghyuck and bites his lip. “I can’t heal you,” he tells him. “You just need a bit of sleep, is all.”

Donghyuck relaxes into Mark’s side and closes his eyes with a nod. “That sounds nice.”

“You had a healer the whole time?” Jeno inquires and he sits up to look at Chanyeol, who’s made his way onto the platform with Baekhyun.

Baekhyun shrugs, watching as Yixing stands and brushes off his pants. “Yixing’s been in China for the last few months. Junmyeon’s good with first aid, but Yixing has the magic touch. He’ll be back at the club for the next six months or so.” Then, his sharp eyes fall on Jeno. “Now. Explain, fetus.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The story flows from Jeno like a waterfall. Jaemin holds his hand through each word. Turns out, Chanyeol had no idea about Jeno’s family situation. Jaemin wonders if he should be appreciating the fact that he had seen Jeno’s desperation and determination and simply allowed him a job regardless of not really knowing why.

It’s also the first time anyone in their friend group hears the whole story. From Jeno’s dad losing his job to the gang demanding money. It’s a shock to them. That much is obvious. Everyone listens to Jeno with unwavering gazes. By the end of it, Jeno is staring at his lap with no more words to say.

Baekhyun, who’s leaned himself against the ropes, frowns. “Well, one thing’s for sure,” he says, “you can’t fight here anymore.”

Jeno’s head whips toward him. “What? Why? Please, I need the money. And I’m getting so much better.”

“You are,” Chanyeol agrees. “But it’s too dangerous for you or your friends to be anywhere around here. We already have enough to deal with.”

“I’m surprised you let him fight in the first place,” Mark says.

At that, Chanyeol tells him, “Connections, kid. How else do you think we can run this place without major issues? Unfortunately, having a rival gang on our heels won’t help us out if this blows up. Which it shouldn’t, but we can’t be too careful. So, you can’t fight. However,” he interrupts as Jeno’s mouth opens, “we might be able to help out some other way.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Excuse me?”

Sighing, Chanyeol shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to Baekhyun. “We have the security to.”

“Oh, no,” Baekhyun says as he jolts away from the ropes. “No. We aren’t doing that.”

“Come on, Baek. The kid needs help. And don’t lie to me, you like him a lot more than you act. He’s grown on you.”

Baekhyun glares and Jeno gives him a small smile that reaches his eyes, turning them into those crescents Jaemin loves. No one can resist that smile.

“He’s better than the other employees, I guess.”

“We have the means to help him.” Chanyeol shrugs. “A bit of money isn’t going to hurt us.”

At those words, Jeno starts to his feet. Jaemin follows, hands out just in case he falls. He may be healed, but clearly, he was still a bit exhausted.

“No, I don’t want your money,” Jeno says. “I just want to work.”

“Yeah, well, we shouldn’t have been letting you do that in the first place. I admit it wasn’t my finest decision. Listen, you can’t be here. But I like you and I don’t like the idea of you getting yourself into more trouble. So, we’ll help you out, and if you really want to make it up for us? Well, once you hit legal age you can come back here.”

“Count your blessings,” Baekhyun says to Jeno. “Come on then. We can work out the appropriate amount that’s not going to end us in the red.” He goes to duck under the ropes, but pauses to look up at Chanyeol with a frown. “And you’re on the couch tonight.”

Chanyeol blinks. “What? Why? Baek!”

He doesn’t get a response. Baekhyun’s already out of the ring and heading toward the back. He reaches the door and shouts, “Get a move on, kid. I don’t have all day.”

“Wait here, okay?” Jeno asks as he takes Jaemin’s hands in his. With that, he runs after Baekhyun. Jaemin can still hear him saying that he wants to work for the money even as the door to the back closes.

Jaemin turns to his friends. They’ve all collected behind him. Chenle is the first to break the awkward silence. “Why didn’t he tell us? Did he not trust us?”

Reaching out for Chenle’s hand, Jaemin says, “It wasn’t that. He just wanted to do it on his own.”

“Idiot,” Renjun states. “What’s the point of friends if you can’t tell them your struggles?”

“At least he’s safe now,” puts in Mark. He’s got an arm around Donghyuck’s waist, keeping him upright. Donghyuck’s tired eyes droop closed. “We should be thankful for that. We’ll get it sorted. And when he comes back you can rip him a new one, Injunnie.”

Renjun cracks his knuckles. “I plan to.”

Perhaps it wasn’t appropriate. Or perhaps it was expected. But Jaemin starts laughing. The heaviness he had felt for the last month is finally gone and he feels as light as a feather. It’s enough for his body to erupt into laughter that he hasn’t experienced in ages. His friends stare at him, unsure for a moment, before Renjun follows suit and then the rest right after. It feels nice. It feels freeing.

And he’s so glad it’s all over.

*

“He looks like a nerd,” Donghyuck says before taking a bite of his chocolate bar.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Don’t be mean. He looks cute.”

“He looks awkward. I told him not to wear his glasses.”

“He looks nice in glasses.”

“He looks—”

“Okay!” Renjun snaps. “We get it. He looks like an adorable nerd. Can we move on, please? For the love of everything good in the world, just watch him walk across the stage.”

Chenle snickers. “Cranky kitty.”

“What did you call me?” Renjun lunges toward the seat in front of him and—the newly orange-haired—Chenle squeals. It gains the attention of several bystanders in the bleachers and Jaemin sighs.

An arm drops over his shoulders and Jaemin smiles as Jeno kisses him on the cheek in greeting. “What did I miss?”

“Not a whole lot,” he says. “Just Renjun trying to kill Chenle, and Donghyuck whining.”

“I’m not whining!” Donghyuck argues, shoving the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth. “I’m just saying that he should have listened to me about the wardrobe choice.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Jaemin chastises and Donghyuck wrinkles his nose at him.

Jeno shrugs. “I think he looks nice.”

“See,” Chenle pipes up from his seat beside Jisung. He carefully leans back, checking over his shoulder to see if Renjun will go after him again. Luckily, Renjun’s too lazy to continue. “You’re the only one that thinks he looks bad.”

“I’m not saying he looks bad,” Donghyuck says. “I’m just saying my choice was a little more stylistic.”

Sighing, Jaemin says, “It’s his graduation. Not a runway show. Besides, he _has_ to wear his uniform. Did you really think he’d break the rules now? Oh, there he is.”

Sure enough, Mark steps up onto the stage. Jaemin doesn’t know why Donghyuck’s complaining. Mark’s dressed in his yellow and black uniform suit, his blond hair bright even from a distance, and on his nose are his round glasses that Donghyuck likes to poke fun of because it makes Mark look like a blond, Korean Harry Potter.

It’s been several months since everything went down. Jeno’s secured some cash from Chanyeol and Baekhyun—promising profusely to them that he would find a way to pay it back to them even though Chanyeol couldn’t have cared less—and his parents are doing much better. In fact, Jeno’s father snatched up a business job just a few months ago and everything seems to be slipping back into normalcy.

Well, maybe not everything. One thing was definitely a bit different.

Jaemin takes Jeno’s hand and intertwines their fingers. Okay, so, maybe this is one difference he can support. It’s not as abnormal as some would think. Jaemin and Jeno’s friendship haven’t shifted at all. They just kiss a lot more than they used to. Again, not a difference Jaemin is going to complain about. Donghyuck, however, loves to complain about the PDA. Jaemin doesn’t care. It’ nice to see his friend squirm for once.

And, now, they’re sitting in the audience, watching their oldest friend graduate with honors and a basketball scholarship he can claim when he heads off to university in another year. In all honesty, things have worked out a lot nicer than Jaemin would have thought months ago when Jeno walked through the doors of the school with a covered bruise and limp.

Donghyuck is the loudest when they cheer, but that’s not surprising in the least. He cups his hands around his mouth and cat whistles. “Get it, Mark Lee!”

Mark turns. His lips are twitching, and Jaemin is sure he’s lifting his hand to flip Donghyuck off, but the teacher grabs his hand for a handshake before he can. Once the paper is in Mark’s grasp, he waves it at them, and his parents, who have taken seats behind the group—Mark’s father seems quite entertained by Donghyuck’s display—and jogs off the stage.

They sit through the remainder of the ceremony and, when it’s finally over, they rush out of the school to wait for Mark. Donghyuck sits down his backpack at his feet. Jaemin’s not sure why he has it, but he doesn’t question it.

“It’s going to be weird without him. Mark’s always with us,” Chenle pouts.

“He’s not going very far. He said he got that internship downtown, right?” asks Jisung. “I’m sure he’ll visit us as much as he can.”

“He better,” Donghyuck grumbles. He blows a bubble with his very pink gum until it pops. “Otherwise, we’re going to have to chase him down.”

Jaemin settles against Jeno as he wraps his arms around Jaemin’s waist. Lips to his ear, Jeno whispers, “Things are going to change.”

Nodding, Jaemin says, “Yeah, but I don’t think it’ll be bad. Just a bit different.” He turns to put his arms around Jeno’s neck. “We’ve been through worse, I think.”

“Maybe,” Jeno hums. He runs a hand through Jaemin’s hair. The pink is long gone, replaced with a dirty blond Donghyuck had fun trying to get him to. He leans forward to kiss Jaemin lightly.

“Hey, no PDA,” snaps Donghyuck. “I’d like to keep my breakfast in my stomach, thank you.”

Jaemin coughs a laugh as he pulls away from Jeno, still holding his hand, though, because now he can any time he likes. He can also kiss him any time he likes, but Mark and his parents are coming down the stairs and Jaemin tries to show at least some restraint.

“See you at the car,” Mark’s mom says as she pecks Mark on the top of the head. She has his diploma in her hands as they wonder off toward the parking lot.

“Look at you, Canada. All graduated and too good for us,” teases Donghyuck.

Mark narrows his eyes. “You think you’re going to get away from yelling at me on stage?”

Donghyuck links his arm through Mark’s and beams. “Oh, absolutely. So, how does it feel to be out of here?”

“Weird,” he replies as he looks back at the school. “Really weird. I feel like I’m not done, yet. Maybe it’ll settle in later.”

“Well, when it does settle in, just make sure not to rub it in too much. We’re still in hell,” Jeno jokes and Mark smiles.

Donghyuck lets go and dances toward his bag, reaching for the zipper. “Now, before we all get all nostalgic and sappy—which I don’t fancy going through—I have a gift for Mark.”

Tilting his head, Mark asks, “Do I want to know? It’s not dangerous, is it?”

“You think I’m carrying something dangerous in my bag?” Donghyuck shoots back.

“I mean, is he wrong for thinking that?” inquires Jisung.

For a moment, Donghyuck pauses, eyes lifting to the sky in thought. Then he shrugs. “Not really, no. But, no, it’s not dangerous. It’s just something I feel like needs to be done on the day of your wonderful graduation.”

“You’re worrying me. I’m legit terrified.”

Jaemin’s eyes widen as Donghyuck pulls something out of his bag. Before he can open his mouth in warning, the object is already flying through the air and smacking Mark right in the chest. A cloud of white bursts around him.

Coughing, Mark waves away the cloud of flour. When it’s almost cleared, he turns on a cackling Donghyuck with sharp eyes. “Donghyuck Lee!”

Donghyuck gasps. He takes off down the front lawn and Mark runs after him. Mark, of course, is faster and tackles him into the grass. Donghyuck’s laughter is infectious and loud. Jaemin can’t help but laugh himself, especially when flour starts raining from the roof as if everyone had been waiting for the first throw. Jeno yanks him back before any can land on him. The graduates start their flour fight before anyone can blink an eye.

“Traditions are weird,” Jeno says with a chuckle.

Jaemin watches the white war with mirth. “I love it.” He grips Jeno’s hand. “I love you.”

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly before transforming into crescent moons with his smile. “I love you, too, Nana.”

And he kisses Jeno. Just because he can. Just because he’s so happy and he doesn’t think anything can beat this moment right now. And, even if it was a struggle, everything was so, _so_ worth it.

  
  
  
  
  
*Feel Free to come talk to me on [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/DiamantNoir)*

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to list powers here. However, I'm only listing the people who are mentioned (even just by name). That way I'm not listing all twenty-one of the characters haha And I'll put them in age order to make things easier for myself. 
> 
> Taeyong - Telepathy - Ability to read minds  
> Jaehyun - Empathy - Ability to read emotions  
> Jungwoo - Hydrokinesis - Ability to control water  
> Lucas - Teleportation - Ability to travel by folding space  
> Mark (Hypnos) - Dream Jumping - Ability to jump into others' dreams  
> Renjun (Vox) - Omnilingualism - Ability to learn, speak, and understand all languages  
> Jeno (Fauna) - Zoolingualism - Ability to speak to and understand animals  
> Donghyuck (Haechan) - Pyrokinesis - Power to control fire  
> Jaemin (Flora) - Chlorokinesis - Ability to control plants/nature  
> Chenle (Gummy Bear) - Sonokinesis - Ability to control sound  
> Jisung (Sung...for now) - Currently thought to be a Negate (someone without powers)


End file.
